Mancipium
by The DG Forum
Summary: When the new Head Obliviator turns out to be a bit of a maverick, Ginny thinks she may have found the perfect partner to help her solve a particularly difficult crime.
1. One

This story was written for **Keeperofthemoon0 **in **_The DG Forum Fic Exchange - Summer 2019_** by a member of our forum. For more details, please visit our page.

* * *

**One.**

It was Ginny's night off.

This usually didn't mean much as, most of the time, she still found herself pouring over case notes and suspect profiles whilst drinking a big glass of red wine in her flat or hanging out with colleagues where the conversation inevitably focused on the trials and tribulations of the job. But, tonight, Ron had managed to convince her to join him, Hermione and Harry at the pub.

It had been an unusually quiet day and she'd left the Ministry in good time for once. She'd Floo'd home, changed into a pale pink jumper and blue jeans, applied a little make-up and Apparated into the woods behind The Cowper Arms. It was a typical country pub in the middle of nowhere Hertfordshire and was Ron's local. He and Hermione had moved to the area a year previously and were enjoying living within a small Wizarding hamlet making a life for themselves. Ginny expected Ron to propose any day now.

It would be strange to just be the four of them that evening as it didn't happen too often anymore. It wasn't that Ginny avoided Harry; when they did get together they got on well but it just wasn't as easy as it had been. The past, the what could have been, the life he'd seen stretching out before him all rested unspoken above their heads whenever they had too much time together. They'd dated again after the war had ended but Ginny had gone back to finish her final year at Hogwarts and Harry went head first into his Auror training. It had seemed that there was no time for one another so they went on a break. But graduation came and went and they realised that, whilst there would always be affection there and love of a sort, they just didn't quite fit each other anymore. It had been sad but also quite a relief to hear him agreeing with her once Ginny had finally found the moment, and the courage, to voice her feelings.

The Weasley's had been disappointed but Harry didn't drift away just because he was no longer tethered to Ginny. He was still there occasionally on Sundays when shifts would allow, still came over at Christmas and to the big summer BBQs. Molly and Arthur still thought of him as another child. And, somewhere, Ginny suspected that her family still held out a little hope that she and Harry might fall in love with one another again.

As Ginny pushed open the heavy oak door, warmth, light and noise washed over her. It was busy but not too crowded and she easily spotted her friends sat in the squishy armchairs by the log burner. She waved at them and signalled taking a drink from an imaginary glass and pointed at the bar but as the three of them raised their nearly full pints of beer she knew they were not in need of another drink just yet.

She leant up against the bar; the two men to her left were noisily debating the most recent muggle political movements and a woman to her right was picking at a plate of fish and chips with her head lost in a book.

"What can I get you?"

"Glass of the merlot, please."

Ginny busied herself trying to sort the correct change — muggle money still confused her a little — but once the drink was paid for she made her way over the threesome by the fire. They were all laughing at something Ron had said.

"Ginny!" Hermione jumped up and embraced the redhead.

Ron hugged her next and finally Harry. There was a slight hesitation but only a few seconds elapsed before Ginny opened her arms and smiled warmly at her ex-boyfriend.

"So, what were you lot cackling about?"

—

_Why did it have to be Ginny's night off tonight?_

Tom Blackford was cursing under his breath. This was his first night running the Major Investigation Unit and some inexperienced fool of an Obliviator had just blundered into his first major investigation and wiped the memory clean from his star witness. Ginny would kill him for letting this happen especially as the Obliviator in question was a bloody newbie who had been over zealous with his memory charms. Even if they were to reverse the spell any evidence they gave would be entirely inadmissible in front of the Wizengamot as memories can change once they have already been taken out, they can morph or be manipulated, especially if a good chunk of the memory had been ripped out rather than being subtly extracted as was best practice. This is why the Obliviator team got such a bad reputation for being a bunch of rash, gung ho, individuals.

He knew the new Head of Obliviation was trying hard to alter the way law enforcement thought of his team but letting people like the wizard Tom had just met out unsupervised was undoing everything.

Tom lit up his cigarette and sucked deeply on it, savouring the burn in his throat and lungs. Exhaling a plume of smoke he felt the anger in him start to lift. He'd need to think clearly and get his temper under control; cursing a colleague at a crime scene would not help his case when he spoke to Ginny in the morning. He hoped to Merlin she'd had a relaxed evening.

—

Three glasses of wine in and Ginny was almost completely unwound with thoughts of work as far in the periphery of her mind as they ever could be. It was nice to be sat here with people who made her laugh and feel safe. She could see Harry was also enjoying himself which can't have been easy as the Anti Terror Auror Unit had been particularly active recently with the far right movement trying to gain some sort of momentum again.

"Oh great, Malfoy's here again" muttered Harry as he stared darkly over at the tall blond figure leaning against the bar.

"I thought you guys were getting on these days?" Hermione looked a little concerned.

"We do, it's just…you know, we have enough of that prick at work now he's Head Obliviator."

Ginny hadn't yet worked with Malfoy directly, he'd only been promoted to head of department a month or so ago. It sounded as if he was trying to make some radical changes.

"Does he live around here?" asked Ginny.

"Well, he doesn't live particularly _near _anything in that bloody great Manor" answered Ron, lowering his tones a little so that Malfoy wouldn't realise the four were scrutinising him, "but, yeah, I think this might be the closest pub."

"We've bumped into him a few times," confided Hermione, "he seems okay, he's always polite. A bit stiff but not unpleasant or anything."

He was tall, Ginny observed, and slim but not too skinny. His hair looked much as it had in his youth but clearly he used far less of the Sleekeazy's potion nowadays and it fell more naturally. He had been working in research for much of his career she recalled; initially training to be a Healer but then began to specialise in the brain, in memory and psychology and then he'd shocked everyone by applying for the Head Obliviator role.

Draco must have felt Ginny's eyes on him as he turned around and cocked his head to the side slightly, sizing up the group. He raised his glass in a "cheers!" motion, nodded at her and walked around the bar in the opposite direction to take a seat next to a woman with ebony hair and olive skin.

It was an interesting reaction and Ginny was about to say so to her friends but Hermione had already changed the subject from Malfoy to the upcoming Halloween party her and Ron were throwing and the moment had passed for Ginny to ask Harry how it had been working alongside his childhood foe.

—

In bed that night Ginny felt a little woozy and very sleepy. It had been a good evening. She'd forgotten how much she loved Harry's company and it seemed finally as though that ice, that awkwardness, was melting away and they could be friends as they once were.

Despite the three rounds of toast and pint of water she'd consumed before bed, Ginny was sure she'd wake up to a hangover and knew for certain she'd used the last of her rehydration draught after Emily from Witness Protection's birthday two weeks before. She hoped to Merlin that Tom had been on form tonight, she wasn't going to have the patience to deal with cleaning up her junior colleagues mess if anything drastic had occurred on the night shift.

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**A/N: **I had intended initially for something a little more light-hearted and fluffy but it just seemed to write itself this way. Hope you enjoy, Noelle.

**Noelle's Prompt 2:**

**Basic premise:** Draco Malfoy works as an Obliviator for the Ministry of Magic. Ginny Weasley is an Auror. They find themselves being partnered together on assignments more than either would like.

**Must haves**: They work together better than they'd like to admit, friendly banter, enemies to friends to lovers

**No-no'**s: Trio bashing, HP/HG

**Rating range**: Any

**Bonus points**: Something bad happens to Ginny and Draco is surprised to find himself genuinely worried over her; strong Ron/Ginny relationship; strong Pansy/Draco friendship; Ron supports Draco and Ginny's relationship


	2. Two

**Two**

"What the flying fuck do you think you're doing letting someone that inexperienced and inept out by themselves, Malfoy? Have you lost your entire grip on reason and sanity? You're out down the pub all evening whilst your little minions destroy our witness's memories and totally screw us out of what should have been a watertight case!"

Draco hadn't expected to see the short, angry, redhead pacing around his office when he'd gone to work that morning. He'd woken up after a restful sleep, gone for a run, showered, had coffee and orange juice and porridge with cinnamon and honey. He'd dressed carefully, as usual, and prepared for a day of training with his colleagues. He was making, or trying to make, great leaps forward in how the Obliviator department was ran and he had been feeling very positive about the progress.

"…he's going to walk because of this and I'm going to have to go to bed every night wondering which poor muggle he's going to brutalise next because you couldn't keep your lackeys on a tight enough leash. I thought you were progressive, I thought you wanted this department to finally earn a bit of respect. _Well, _mark my words, you're going to have your work cut out for you now with the Major Investigations Unit."

She stopped pacing and, breathing hard, threw herself in the chair opposite Draco's. Her head was pounding, her mouth dry as sandpaper and she knew her cheeks would be flushed a dark shade of red. She was also aware, in the back of her mind, that some of the blame lay with her team, with Tom, too. It had been his first case on his own and he'd been flustered and he should have been watching the witnesses more carefully. She'd speak with him about that later and try and unpick the case they had on their hands but she'd really, really needed to get that anger out.

"Could I say something?" Draco's voice was mild; serious but not defensive or angry.

Ginny grunted but didn't look up at him (she'd learnt this style of communication from Bill and Ron).

"One - I wasn't in the pub all night_, _I had _a_ drink. Two - I _am_ sorry that Reynolds acted so rashly. I'm trying to change things here, alter the status quo, but I cannot, as I'm sure you'll relate, be in the office all the time. So whilst I will speak to the team who were on the ground last night, you can trust me when I say, no one is more frustrated that they've publicly messed up so badly than I."

His tone was sincere but firm.

Ginny felt a little of her anger wane, it was hard to blaze ferociously when you were faced with such ice cold reason. Malfoy was not who she thought he'd be but what had she expected? School boy taunts? Despite him being on the wrong side of the war he'd still just been a scared kid fighting for what he thought was right, like the rest of them. And it had been eight years since the final battle. So many people had changed. No one expected her to have made it to Head of MIU at the tender age of twenty-five. In fact, even Ginny struggled to believe her career had taken the turn it had.

She finally looked up at him.

"Everyone is talking about these _big changes _you're making here but what, exactly, does that entail?"

Draco eyed her suspiciously. She looked tired — purple bags beneath her blue eyes telling him she _did_ stay in the pub for more than a drink or two — her long red hair had been twisted up into a bundle on top of her head and she was dressed in tight black jeans and an oversized pale green shirt.

"Fine, whatever" she sighed and began to stand up again, "don't tell me. I'm not getting any younger here and I'm not that bothered."

"I think there's a way to extract memory without the fear that it will be altered or damaged. I think we can find a way to navigate memories whilst still within the mind to help heal trauma not just remove it. And, well, I think it's high time that those who are skilled in this kind of magic push their limits and became somewhat useful to the Ministry in more varied and subtle ways."

He said it quickly as though wanting to get it over with as soon as possible so she could laugh at him and move on. Instead she sat up a little straighter; she wanted him to elaborate, wanted to know what he meant. Some of the muggles — and witches and wizards for that matter — she found at crime scenes had been so badly damaged by their encounter with dark magic and cruel people that they couldn't bring themselves to remember it at all and this made extraction and removal so difficult. Often elements of other memories were pulled out and it pained her to wonder if that meant a loss of personality traits too. Plus she always wondered if the feelings of trauma could be taken away just because the memory of what had caused it had been removed.

There was a knock at the door. A blonde woman poked her head in.

"Mr Malfoy — the session is due to start."

Draco nodded at her, "I'll be right there."

She shut the door again.

"Sorry, Weasley, I need to get on…unless you wanted to shout some more?" his tone was dry but she sensed he was teasing rather than angry.

"Even if I wanted to, Malfoy, I really don't have the energy today."

"Ah, well, another time perhaps."

They both stood and he walked her to the door. She smelt like patchouli and coffee and was very short, he noticed, as she walked away. He cleared his throat. It wasn't up to him to notice anything about Ginny Weasley. He had a seminar to run and department that desperately needed to prove itself. He was putting all those years of research into practice now and laying his neck on the line. He really had to knuckle down and show the Ministry that he'd meant all those promises he'd made and that he really wasn't his father's son.

—

Ginny massaged her temples as she sat at her desk. She'd go ask around in a moment and see if anyone had an anti-headache elixir. If not she'd have to face a trip to the Ministry Healer. She felt rotten and, somehow, yelling at Malfoy felt a little bit hollow now. She didn't know the man he'd grown to be and barely knew the boy he'd been. He'd just hated Ron, Harry and Hermione and she'd hated him back on their behalf.

It sounded as though he still annoyed them but…they'd let go of that animosity.

_I think it's high time that those who are skilled in this kind of magic push their limits and became somewhat useful to the ministry in more varied and subtle ways._

His words drifted across her thoughts. She could sort of relate. No one had anticipated that Ginny would actually pass her Auror exams never mind rise so quickly through the department. The study and the tests had been excruciatingly hard and many times she thought about just giving up and finding another path but she'd known that with her life experiences of trauma and fighting for justice that she'd bring something to the team.

It was Ginny's empathy that had seen her rise quickly in the MIU, her quick thinking under pressure and ability to look at something in a different way. Her own method of slotting together the pieces of an investigation so that it clicked. And she was fantastic with witnesses and victims; they were alway the priority. The criminal — the murderer or rapist or torturer — was a piece of shit, as far as she was concerned, and whilst she may be investigating them she refused to give them any kind of credit or airtime. For her the trail of destruction left behind was where she could find her clues to solving crimes and, always, always, always, it was tantamount that those effected were treated with respect and care. Those victims and witnesses, nine times out of ten, held the all the information she needed.

It had also helped that Ginny didn't suffer fools lightly; she was a strong, slightly ferocious, leader.

—

Draco was glad to be home. There'd been a time when he'd thought that he would never be able to live in the Manor again after Voldemort had taken it upon himself to move into the Malfoy home. Lucius and Narcissa had moved away after the court hearings; the pain, the disgrace, was too much to bear. They now lived a quiet life in the north of France and Draco saw them a handful of times throughout the year.

He'd considered selling off the property (a good majority of the Malfoy assets had already passed into Draco's name) but the thought of losing the place where several generations of his family had lived made his heart ache. He'd always loved his home so, instead of eradicating it from his life, he chose to alter it. To change it and make it a space he felt happy in once more. Gardens were tended to, rooms repainted and remodelled, furniture bought and made. He added more windows to let the light in and modernised the space to fit his wants and needs.

His parents had only visited it once since he'd made the changes; they'd seemed to be impressed but he knew it would always cause them too much pain to be in their old home. They weren't willing to face the issues that kept them running away from the life they'd known before and he couldn't force them to do so. He was just glad he'd learnt from his parents mistakes and taken alternate paths before it was too late.

Draco changed from his work robes to a pair of joggers and a white t-shirt. He had to hand it to them, the muggles certainly knew how to make comfortable clothes. Draco had become quite attached to their fashion over the past few years much to the amusement of Pansy and Blaise.

Opening the fridge, Draco took out some pancetta, pecorino cheese and a chilled bottle of sauvignon blanc. He'd been looking forward to a mountain of Carbonara, and a cold glass of wine, since his disappointing soup at lunchtime. He was going to make it entirely from scratch the way Blaise had taught him.

He had just begun dicing the meat, however, when a Patronus in the shape of a springbok came cantering into his kitchen. It was a message from Jim Perkins, the most senior Obliviator (and Draco's most promising colleague) on duty that night.

"Sorry to disturb you, Draco, but Auror Weasley's requested an Obliviator at a crime scene. You said you wanted to be notified. We'll await your instruction before deploying anyone."

The Patronus faded.

_Bollocks. _

Draco looked longingly at the condensation covered wine glass and the pile of ingredients he had been planning on turning into his dinner. He _had _wanted to be notified but he'd hoped she wouldn't need another sodding Obliviator for at least a week.

Sighing he put the wine, meat and cheese back in the fridge, quickly washed his hands, pulled on a pair of trainers and disapparated to the Ministry.

"Hey, boss, sorry to drag you out."

"It's fine, Jim, I asked you to let me know. I'll take this one and I'll take Reynolds with me. A bit of on the job training will do him some good. Plus he can face Weasley's wrath in person for last night's escapades."

Jim chuckled to himself. He liked Draco Malfoy more than he'd thought possible, he'd warmed to him quickly and admired him for trying to shake up the system. It had been a more interesting month with him around than it had been in a good five years in the Obliviation department.

—

"Obliviators are here, Ginny."

"_Finally. _Have you finished recording the statements of the muggle witnesses, Tom?"

"Yeah, got it all. Don't think there's much more they can tell us."

"Right, well, tell the Obliviator to extract the memory and then erase it. It's always good to keep a record even if we can't use that bit in the hearing."

She knew she was taking him through everything like he didn't already know it himself but, she reasoned, she wouldn't be a very good boss if she didn't try and improve his skills. He'd messed up last night by just forgetting the simple stuff and she didn't want that to become a habit.

Tom disappeared again and Ginny sat next to the young witch, who can't have been more than nineteen, and who'd just committed a crime she'd never forgive herself for. The girl was pale and thin, her dark hair pulled back into a severe ponytail. She was shivering, her cheeks wet with tears.

"Rosie. Do you mind if I call you Rosie?"

The girl shook her head but couldn't seem to bring herself to look up at Ginny.

"I'm going to need to ask you some questions, Rosie, about what happened here this evening. It won't be easy but I just want to get a few things cleared up and then I'll send you with my colleague, Melissa, to St Mungos so you can be checked over before we formally process you. Do you understand?"

The girl nodded.

"Do you remember what happened?"

Rosie screwed up her face in a pained expression, as though desperately searching her mind for a clue, and then a fresh wave of sobs seemed to wash over her.

Ginny waited patiently until the tears subsided again. She handed Rosie a tissue from her pocket and watched as the frail girl mopped at her eyes.

"I don't remember anything after having dinner…until I opened my eyes and mum and dad were lying there in the front garden. It looked like they'd jumped off the roof and everyone was yelling and I was holding out my wand."

"We did _Priori Incantatem_ on your wand, Rosie, and the last spell that had been cast was the Imperius Curse."

"I, I…I've never done that before. I swear to Merlin I haven't!"

She was becoming agitated and started rocking a little.

Ginny's voice became low and soothing.

"It's okay. Let's think back for a moment. Did anything unusual happen this evening? Did you meet up with anyone new?"

Rosie shook her head, her eyes were wide and terrified now.

"Did you argue with your mum and dad?"

"No! I helped dad make dinner and when mum came home from work we all sat in the kitchen and ate, like normal. It was normal. How it always is. We made chilli and rice, it's my favourite."

She seemed to disappear into the memory of her last family meal.

Ginny didn't think she was going to get much further with her at the moment. She needed to get her in front of a Healer, needed to make sure she was physically and mentally stable enough for interview. She was certain this was a part of the same pattern she had been investigating; it had happened twice before that young, or impressionable, people had committed crimes they had no recollection of doing. What the MIU needed to figure out was who was pulling the strings behind these horrific crimes. And how were they creating a charm so powerful that the perpetrator could be encouraged to cause pain and destruction on their loved ones.

Melissa, the family liaison Auror, entered the room and Ginny gave her the nod. She sat by Rosie and Ginny left the room to see how everything else was going. This was going to be a massive clean up job for the Obliviators. Rosie had stood in the middle of her street in Islington and loudly cawed and crowed as her parents teetered on the edge of the roof on their three storey house.

Neighbours had been down in the street, and leaning out of windows, watching the entire scene unfold. Ginny needed all the details they remembered and all the memories they could gather. She needed to look through every single one of them and see if anyone had been on the scene who could potentially be the sick mind behind this wave of crimes.

Someone who was inflicting pain in this way wouldn't be able to sit back and just read about it in _The Daily Prophet, _he'd want to watch his game play out.

—

Once Draco saw just how many memories he'd need to modify he called in for back-up. It was imperative no one was missed and he had to collect all the memories in their entirety. He was glad the bodies of Mr and Mrs Elgin had been removed by the time he'd arrived as judging by the amount of blood in their front garden that was still being removed, they wouldn't have been a pretty sight.

Ginny was leaning against the front door and she was deep in conversation with Tom Blackford. Draco had heard he was her second in command and closest friend on the team. When she looked up and saw Draco was on the scene she marched over, her face defiant.

"Evening, Malfoy, nice outfit."

He looked down, realised he was still in his very casual attire, and shrugged. She was still dressed as she had been this morning. She simultaneously looked exhausted and wide awake; it was clear the job still enthralled her, the need for justice and truth spurring her on. But it was also clear that she was ready to drop.

"How are you getting on with the extractions?"

"Oh no, I'm fine, Weasley. Thanks for asking." "I'm sorry, Malfoy, did I hurt your feelings? Remind me to bring some tea and biscuits next time and we can have a proper catch-up."

He ignored her jibe."It's going well. I have more of the team arriving soon and we're going to canvas all the neighbours to ensure we got everyone. People are really spooked though, shook a few of them pretty badly."

"Well, you watch someone you thought was perfectly sane jeer and mock their parents until they jump to their deaths and see how you feel. I'm quite sure you wouldn't just assume all was happy and right with the world."

"Yes. I know that. I was just saying."

He looked a little hurt.

"I didn't mean to step on your feelings, Malfoy, but this has been a rough case and we can't catch a break. Someone is killing people by influencing the loved ones to do it for them. There's no clear pattern in the victimology and we're struggling here."

He thought for a moment.

"Perhaps I can help with the perpetrators of these crimes? I'm well versed in Head Healer techniques and I'm probably the only academic in the UK who is looking at how to examine memories in conjunction with traumatic, and criminal, experiences right now."

Ginny stared at him for a moment, the bags under her eyes even more pronounced. What did she have to lose?

"Alright, Malfoy, meet me at The Leaky Cauldron tomorrow for breakfast and we'll talk it over. I'd like to discuss it away from the office for now because I have a feeling I'm going to have to get permission from my boss to sanction this."

"Okay. Eight o'clock tomorrow?"

Ginny yawned, "it's been a long old day. Make it nine."

She turned on her heel and began to walk back towards the house, she had another quick chat with Tom and Disapparated. After a day like today, and in preparation for the day she thought she might be having tomorrow, she felt she deserved to have her head hit the pillow before midnight tonight.


	3. Three

**Three**

Ginny felt apprehensive and the day had only just begun. _Was meeting Draco a wise move?_

It was an incredibly difficult, and sought after, career to be an Auror and thus a lot of what happened behind the closed door of the department was usually kept immensely private. It was why relationships fell apart, it was people became the job and it was why so many Aurors could never quite switch off or share the burden with loved ones. So rarely did they consult beyond the confines of the team of Aurors they worked with on a daily wasn't a normal Obliviator's remit but Draco wasn't really a normal Obliviator and it was an unusual case. Perhaps that could justify some unorthodox methods and means to solve it.

She dragged herself out from beneath her warm, heavy duvet and raced across the chilly wooden floor, grabbing her towel as she went. It was the same every morning once the cold weather rolled in; Ginny would lie in bed for as long as humanly possible and then make a mad dash for a nice hot shower. She loved her London flat. It was small and draughty with big sash windows that let too much cold in, in winter and too much heat in, in summer but it was hers. It was full of natural light with beautiful parquet flooring throughout and a little balcony on the back where she drank her Sunday morning coffee.

Washed, dried and dressed, she stared at her reflection and gave herself a mental pep talk.

_You can do this, Weasley, you have to do this. And, if it doesn't work, no one need know._

You didn't get to be the youngest Head Auror of the MIU by being safe. She had to take risks, had to innovate or, at least, she had to try.

—

Draco was already sat in a table by the fire when Ginny walked into the Leaky Cauldron. He looked uncomfortable and stiff with his pressed work robes and neatly coiffed hair.

"Morning, Malfoy."

Ginny sat at the seat beside him rather than opposite, thinking it would be easier to speak more discreetly but didn't seem to take into account how intimate a gesture it may seem. Draco felt acutely aware of her proximity, her scent, but didn't want to risk offending her by shifting away. This could be his chance to prove that what he was working towards had a place in modern law enforcement. And, besides that, it wasn't like it was unpleasant to have her so close.

"Morning. I haven't ordered yet."

A waitress appeared almost before he finished his sentence.

"Hi, Ginny, your usual?"

"Yes, please, that'd be great."

Draco quirked his eyebrow at her, "come here often then, Weasley?"

Ginny shrugged, "I like my routines."

"Sir? What would you like for breakfast?"

"Porridge, please, with bananas and a large black coffee."

The waitress made a note of the order and disappeared as quickly as she'd arrived.

Silence fell. Ginny was reluctant to start talking about the case until both of them had their food and drinks in front of them; she didn't want the waitress accidentally overhearing something she shouldn't. Draco seemed to sense her reluctance to begin and said, "I got an invitation from your brother and Granger this morning."

"Oh?"

"They've invited me to their Halloween party."

"Wow! Really? I wonder why."

"Ouch, Weasley! I'm right here you know." "Oh, behave, you know what I mean. It's not like you lot are mates is it?"

"I guess we bump into each other now and then since they moved to the area and I suppose they only thought it polite. I'm assuming it was Granger's idea. Can't imagine your brother dying to have me over for a beer."

No, she could just imagine Ron's face as Hermione tried to convince him it was neighbourly and that it would seem strange if they invited everyone else and not him. They'd finally finished the renovations on the house and the party was going to be a way to christen the space and welcome friends, family and neighbours in to see their new home.

"So…are you going to go?"

"Not likely. Like you said, not exactly _mates_ are we? And I'm still not really in anyone's good graces. Not sure I'm the best party guest."

She surveyed him for a moment, suddenly serious.

"The war ended years ago."

"Perhaps. But the Malfoy's played their parts and people remember that."

His words hung in the air for a few moments.

"Nice try, Malfoy, but we all know you're chickening out because my costume will be far better than yours."

Before he could reply their food arrived along with two giant mugs of coffee. Ginny's usual, it turned out, was a mountain of scrambled eggs on two slices of toast.

They tucked into their food hungrily and neither spoke for a moment. Once Ginny had demolished a good third of her breakfast, however, she leaned down and took two files out of her bag.

"I really, really shouldn't be giving these to you. And, if anyone finds out, I'll say you stole them."

"Understood."

"These are the files of the first two incidents. Laura Jones; four months ago she enchanted her boyfriend to stab himself forty-seven times. Edward Carmichael; he used the imperious curse on his wife and kids, forced them to hold themselves under water in the local swimming baths until they drowned. That was a bloody cover-up nightmare and happened just before you joined the Obliviators. "

Draco put down his spoon and looked mildly queasy.

"Big boy pants on now, Malfoy, if you really want to help us to navigate troubled minds and disturbed memories you need to grow a nice thick skin."

He picked up his spoon again and took a hearty mouthful of porridge.

"That's the spirit. Now, neither of them remember anything of the attack, much like Rosie, and this is unusual. When people have been placed under the imperious curse, once the spell is broken, they can usually remember a lot of what they did whilst under the influence. It may not be clear, it may be just flashes of memory depending on how strong the mind is that's been manipulated but these victims remember _nothing. _There's only a void where the memory should be, like it's already been ripped out."

He was listening intently, his mind already beginning to fizz with ideas and possibilities.

"Can you look over these case notes and let me know what you think. Let me know if you can help. If you think you can we'll look over Rosie's case together and then perhaps we can try to find a way to get a break in this case. It scares me, if I'm honest. Whoever is doing this is powerful and cruel and I can't see them stopping of their own accord."

Draco nodded. There was fire in her and intelligence. She cared so much and he found himself inexplicably drawn to her determination and grit. He, like many others, had never anticipated that Ginny Weasley would go into Auror training. In fairness, he didn't know much about her beyond being Potter's ex-girlfriend and Weasley's younger sister but he had watched her grow strong in his final year at Hogwarts, had seen her become tough and resilient as she'd fought for what was right and just. He supposed, if he'd really been paying attention, perhaps Ginny Weasley's choice of vocation, and subsequent success in said career, wouldn't really have been much of a shock at all.

"I'll do my best. I think there must be a way to find those memories and unearth some clues but it would take some time and it probably wouldn't be easy for them. Give me a day or two to get my head around these and I'll get back to you."

She smiled at him earnestly.

"Thank you, Malfoy, I appreciate it. I'm going to talk to Mathilde and get her to sign off on officially involving you within the case. I think, as it's so linked to memory, I should be able to swing it."

It was so easy talking to and being around her; she was honest and open. Direct and smart. He could tell she'd do whatever it took to solve this case — even trusting a man from a family who'd done nothing but cause _her_ family grief for years.

They finished up their food — Ginny insisted upon paying the bill — and left the dingy pub, shaking hands somewhat awkwardly before Disapparating separately into their respective Ministry departments.

—

Mathilde Durand was an intimidating woman: She was fifty-two, almost six feet tall and always impeccably well dressed. She was tough, sharp-tongued and Head of the Auror Department.

Ginny Weasley was currently stood outside of her office, building up the courage to knock on the door and ask that she grant her a favour.

"Weasley!"

_Shit._

"Get in here or go do some work elsewhere."

Ginny opened the door.

"Morning, Boss."

"Sit down, Weasley, and explain why you've been hovering outside my office for the past five minutes."

Ginny wanted to protest that it had likely only been a minute but surmised — correctly — that, that would seem somewhat churlish.

Still. Straight out with it. Mathilde liked it when her employees were direct with her and, usually, this was something Ginny was very good at doing.

"I'd like to discuss one of my cases."

"The missing memory perpetrators?"

"Yes. I'd like your permission to bring in an outsider to assist with memory recovery."

Mathilde steepled her hands together and looked at Ginny for a moment.

"You want to swear in Malfoy."

"I, erm, yes I would. I'm aware of some of his research and…well, when we spoke about what he's hoping to achieve in the Obliviator squad I thought he could be very helpful on this case."

"Do you…trust him?"

Ginny quirked her head slightly, not quite understanding what her boss was getting at.

"He applied to be an Auror, you know — years ago — and he was basically laughed out of the department. A known Death Eater, a very prominent family with strong beliefs in blood supremacy and, well, just generally disliked and mistrusted around the Ministry. If he hadn't worked so hard to become such an expert in his field, and if the Wizarding world wasn't trying hard to find forgiveness and tolerance, I doubt he'd have been given his new post."

Ginny wasn't sure what to address first; she couldn't imagine Draco wanting to be an Auror.

"So. Do you trust him?"

"Yes. I do. I sincerely believe that everyone is allowed a second chance and, more than that, I believe in means justifying an end. I want to nail whoever is committing these crimes and I think, if we have one of the foremost researchers in memory and trauma working within the Ministry, and he's already familiar with crime scene and criminal proceedings protocol, then we'd be mad to not utilise that."

Mathilde seemed to consider Ginny's words.

"Okay. I'll grant you permission to have him on board your case. He gets full access to the files and is able to conduct interviews as long as he works alongside you."

"Thank you."

"But, he does not have permission to be in the department physically. There are too many sensitive cases and Potter would have a fit if Draco Malfoy was allowed anywhere near Anti Terrorism."

"Understood. We'll set up an incident room on another floor. Thanks again, I'm really hoping this pays off." "Me too, Weasley, me too. Come update me at the end of the week."

Ginny consented, enquired about Mathilde's partner and children (the schmoozing one had to do with one's manager) and left the room before she could change her mind.

—

"_Come on, _Draco. Blaise will already be there and I don't want to miss the start."

"Two minutes, Pans, I just need to finish these notes." He looked up to see his best friend looking frustrated, leaning against the doorframe of his study.

"Ever since you started this bloody job I don't think we've been anywhere on time."

"One day, Parkinson, you might get a job too and you'll realise we can't all just go out and play all the time."

She rolled her eyes.

"I would never be so uncouth as to actually work for a living, Malfoy."

"Well, it is probably safer you stay away from anything that requires taking on actual responsibility." "Oh, _ha ha_, Draco. Get a move on!"

"Alright, alright, I'm done." He shoved the papers Ginny had given him earlier that day, along with his notebook in his desk draw and sealed it with a tap of his wand.

"Hurrah! We might actually make it in time to see the trailers!"

Despite their political leanings, Draco, Pansy and Blaise had learnt that if they wanted a bit of escape from scrutiny and judgement then the best place to hide was in muggle dominant spaces.

Through this way of thinking they found a great love of attending the cinema and had decided to try and go at least twice a month. Those hours spent watching weird and wonderful things on screen, and the time afterwards sat in pubs or restaurants discussing the films, played a huge part in the three friends' recovery and healing process. Draco was certain he'd have gone mad, or fled the country with his parents, if he hadn't had his friends around him.

What's more, spending time in the muggle world broadened their horizons: They listened and watched and learnt more about the people they'd been taught to despise and found themselves discovering that, really, they weren't too different.

Draco and Pansy arrived to see Blaise buying their tickets.

"Merlin, thought you guys were never going to get here."

Blaise had, if possible, grown even more handsome with each passing year. His curly hair, deep brown eyes and high cheekbones always earned him plenty of lustful, wanting stares. Draco often wondered when Blaise was going to realise Pansy was utterly besotted with him and had been for years. He had no idea if his friend felt the same way but dearly wished Pansy would make a move; if Blaise didn't feel the same she could, hopefully, at least begin to move on.

"Sorry, sorry, I've just agreed to help out on a project at the Ministry and it's going to take up a lot of time."

"Well, well, I never thought I'd see the day where you'd be a proper Ministry man, Draco, but it's happened. You've been indoctrinated."

"_Plus _how can you be taking on other projects — your entire department is currently under experimentation! Is that not enough?!"

Pansy picked up a packet of sour sweets and ordered a large tub of popcorn. As well as the films, and his friends, what Draco loved most about his evenings at the cinema was satisfying his sweet tooth with all sorts of muggle sweets and treats.

"It's all connected. I'll tell you about it another time. Come on, stop dithering, you'll miss the start."

He thought he heard a faint _humph _but she seemed happy enough for Blaise to link arms with her and lead her into the screening. Tonight he didn't want to think about horrific murders and Ginny Weasley's mystery case, he just wanted to be lost in a story that wasn't his own.

—

"Oh, Gin, come on. Everyone has to eat. Even you."

Ron was leaning against her office door with a pleading look on his face. It was getting close to ten o'clock and Ginny still hadn't clocked off for the night.

"I had a sandwich earlier."

"When was earlier?" "Flipping heck, I don't know — lunchtime?"

"Right. Either you walk away from whatever horrific case is currently occupying you or I'll tell mum you're not eating or sleeping enough."

She finally looked away from her incident board. A mutinous expression across her feature.

"That's a bloody low blow bringing mum into this." "I'll do it, baby sister, if you don't come along with me right now and have a decent meal. And then you have to promise to go home and go to bed."

"For the love of Circe, Ron, the reason I moved out was so I wasn't under surveillance constantly."

She couldn't be annoyed at him though, he meant well and he wanted to make sure she had a decent balance in her life. She stood up, shrugged on her black wool coat and wrapped her long green scarf around her neck.

"Come on, then, but it's on _you."_

"Deal. Indian food?"

Before long Ginny and Ron were sat in their favourite little Indian restaurant, Sagar, in the middle of Covent Garden. It wasn't too busy but there was a lovely lull of conversation and the atmosphere was warm and welcoming as always.

They were sharing spicy pakoras and poppadoms with mango chutney before their curries and dosas arrived. She'd probably never tell him but Ron's friendship, and need to protect his younger sister, really did save her regularly from becoming an utter recluse.

"Better than burning the midnight oil?"

"Yes, yes, oh wise one. You were right. What I really needed was tasty food, a cold beer and then my bed."

He grinned, "glad to hear it. So what're you working on?"

"You know I can't give you details — we're keeping this one out of the papers too. It's a messy one and we need to handle it as best we can."

"I hear you're getting Malfoy involved."

"News does travel fast; where'd you get that from?"

"Harry, of course."

Ginny nodded and took another bite of food.

"Yes, I am talking to him about a case. I think his research could be helpful."

"Don't know how you'll manage to stand working with him for too long. He's an annoying git."

"I do just fine with you." She adopted an overtly saccharine expression of innocence.

"Ouch."

"Anyway, you're the one dying to be pals with him, I heard about that party invite." "Oh,_ don't_, that was Hermione. She got herself all worked up about what it would look like if we didn't invite him and then she got herself all worked up because she felt guilty for guilt-inviting him."

Ginny found herself giggling.

"That is the most Hermione of reactions. Wonderful. Well, I doubt he'll be there."

She tried to squish the little part of her that felt disappointed at her own words. She barely knew the man, why should she care if he came to a bloody party or not?

"You'll come though, won't you?"

"Of course I will. Wouldn't miss it."

"Good. And, Gin?"

"Yes?"

"Promise me that, whatever this case is, you won't go too deep. You won't forget to look after yourself a bit."

She smiled but couldn't make that promise to Ron as he well knew she wouldn't. The secret to her success, the reason she was so brilliant at her job was because she couldn't stop caring, she couldn't not fall into the case so completely that it began to obsess her. She would take herself to the brink of madness in the pursuit for justice but she had yet to go beyond the point of no return and, hopefully, with Malfoy on her side this one stood a fighting chance of getting solved before too many more casualties were incurred.


	4. Four

**Four**

_Malfoy,_

_Mathilde has signed off on your involvement but we need to setup on the third floor. Aligning myself with your memory voodoo has already made me a pariah — come prove it's worth it. Will two o'clock work for you?_

_G._

—

_Weasley,_

_Two o'clock is fine. I just hope hanging out with you doesn't completely destroy my own social standing in the Ministry, I almost had one of the clerks make eye contact with me yesterday._

_Draco._

Ginny snorted; she liked sarcasm and she liked that he didn't seem to take himself too seriously. She'd been slightly apprehensive that his history, and his years as an academic, would make him awkward and sombre to work alongside but, somehow, she thought they might just gel.

—

By the time Draco arrived at the makeshift incident room Ginny and the team had setup three separate chalkboards for each case and then a fourth board for spotting similarities amongst the cases. Tom Blackford was hunched over stacks of documents and three Aurors he hadn't encountered before were deep in discussion around one the tables, steaming cups of coffee in front of them. Ginny was staring at the Rosie board, seemingly lost in thought. Her long red hair was down today, thick and wavy over her shoulders, and she wore a loose fitting white shirt and tight black trousers.

He cleared his throat.

"Malfoy! Hi! Come in." Tom had a strong cockney accent and had jumped to his feet to shake Draco's hand. The other three also left their conversation and made their way over to introduce themselves.

Ginny had clearly told them to play nice as he couldn't have imagined such a warm welcome otherwise.

"Alright, you lot, back to work."

His eyes met hers and she smiled widely.

"Weasley."

"Malfoy."

"Thanks for sending over Rosie's file this morning, it was good to get up to date on it."

"Sure. Shall we chat through what we have so far? I'm interested to hear how you think you can help. Coffee?"

He nodded and she returned a few moments later with two mugs. They sat at a table a little removed from the rest of the team.

"So, be honest with me, do you think its possible to get those memories back?"

Draco hesitated for a moment, wanting to get his thoughts ordered.

"If those recollections still exist within their minds, I believe I can retrieve them, yes. I'd have to meet them. I'd need their permissions to examine their memories but, if they're not showing signs of O_bliviate _then it's entirely possible it's still in there. In fact, there is no other option but for them to still hold those key experiences somewhere, but if they'd been enchanted to not take in the memory and to instantly forget what they'd done then its possible they're locked away pretty tight. It wouldn't be easy."

Ginny let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. It wasn't anything definite but Draco seemed confident and she needed any kind of movement in the case at this point. Several deaths and three perpetrators who had no recollection of their actions; it was a nightmare.

"I can get you access to them, no problem."

"Well, let's give it a try then."

Ginny called over the rest of them team and they began to get Draco up to speed on where they were in the case; witness statements, victim similarities (very few), timelines and Healer reports on the both the deceased and Laura, Edward and Rosie.

—

It had been a bit of a quandary where to keep the three perpetrators: They had committed awful crimes, and could still potentially be a danger to themselves and those around them, and yet it wouldn't have been appropriate to keep them in Azkaban. Instead they had been assigned private, highly secure, rooms at St Mungos where Healers and Aurors alike could have access to them and, of course, they had, had their wands confiscated.

After the first briefing Ginny had wanted to begin immediately and she and Draco had left the Ministry for St Mungo's almost at once. She'd spoken with Healer Thompson who had said that physically Laura was fine and had seemed a lot calmer over the past couple of weeks. She was still taking regular anti-anxiety potions and dreamless sleep draughts to help her through the difficult time which did seem to be aiding her grief process.

Starting with Laura seemed to make the most sense; she'd had the time to start to come to terms with what she'd done and Draco thought it would easier for him to try and sort through her thoughts as, hopefully, her mind was slightly less frenzied than the others.

The room she was staying in was sparse with just a small bed, an old armchair, pale grey carpet and white walls. She had a small stack of books beside her chair and a window which had been enchanted to show a bright summer's day rather than drizzly, autumnal weather.

"Hi, Laura, how're you doing?"

Ginny sat beside the young woman who seemed to have shrunk down to half the size since she'd last seen her; her eyes were wide and anxious and she was twitchy and nervous.

"I don't know. Sad. Confused. Frustrated."

Ginny nodded, understanding, "this is Draco Malfoy."

"A Malfoy?" Laura's voice suddenly sounded sharper but afraid and wary.

Ginny didn't want to acknowledge, or give weight to, her apprehension so she simply continued to speak as though no interruption had occurred.

"He works for the Ministry. He's an expert on memory loss and we're hoping he can shed a bit of light on what happened between you and Mark."

Tears filled Laura's eyes at the mention of her boyfriend. Ginny too couldn't help but recall the crime scene where they'd found Laura sobbing over the body of Mark, her hands covered in his blood as she'd tried to save him.

Draco stepped forward and squatted down in front of the, clearly distraught, woman. He felt nervous; reading books and theories and practising on willing participants was entirely different to where he was now. He had wiped and extracted the memories of witnesses but this was something new.

"Hi, Laura — I hope you don't mind me calling you Laura —as Auror Weasley said, I'm Draco Malfoy. I'm Head Obliviator and have been studying memory and the mind for six years now. I'd like to try and help you, if you'll let me."

His voice was low and gentle in a way she'd never heard before and Ginny found herself slightly entranced by him.

"How can you help?" "I would like to scan through your thoughts and memories and I'd like to try and see where this block is. Then we can explore removing that obstacle. But it won't be easy for you so I need to make sure you're prepared for that."

Laura looked to Ginny.

"Do you think this will work?"

"I believe that Draco is our best chance to see if we can retrieve those memories. Someone manipulated you in the very worst of ways, Laura, and we need to find out how. I'm hoping some answers are in those lost memories."

She'd never used his first name before; it sounded alien to him. He supposed it was because it sounded more like they were on the same team than if she continuously used his surname and took some of the Death Eater association away which had clearly unnerved Laura initially.

Laura looked from Ginny to Draco for a moment.

"Okay. It can't make my life any worse at this point so, if there's a chance it could help, I'd like to try."

Despite the awful situation Draco felt a pang of excitement and anticipation. He was looking forward to putting theory into practise and, a small part of him that he was refusing to acknowledge, wanted to succeed to please Ginny. He also wanted to prove himself for the sake of his job and his department and to show the world that a leopard could change it's spots if it worked hard enough and really wanted to. He wasn't who he'd been at seventeen — who was? — and he had, had enough of shutting himself away.

"That's great, Laura, are you happy to get started right away?"

She nodded her consent.

—

Draco was a very skilled Legilimens.

Ironically he had learnt both this, and Occlumency, from the Dark Lord. Or, rather, _because _of Dark Lord. It was what had begun his fascination with the human mind, with how experiences were processed and then filtered and looked back upon. And now it could be what earned him a place within society again; it could be the reason the Malfoy name regained the respect it had once held.

Laura and Draco were in a different room now — as they didn't want to invade Laura's space with trauma, they wanted her to still feel safe there — and were sat opposite one another. Ginny was also present but sat in the corner the furthest away. She was there as a sort of escort and mediator in case things went beyond a certain point.

"Okay, Laura" his voice was low and soothing again, "I want you to take some deep breaths and start to relax as much as you can. You will try, automatically, to block me but I need you to breathe through that and allow your defences to drop as much as possible."

The young woman nodded and began inhaling big lungfuls of air through her nose and exhaling out of her mouth. Reluctantly her muscles started to unclench and she felt the tightness in her jaw almost dissipate.

"One, two…"

On the beat where three should have been Draco initiated his Legilimency nonverbally. He'd always found this the best way with people even when they weren't attempting to drag out something horrific. It was natural to fight the process so the element of surprise helped facilitate a successful memory retrieval mission.

It was instantly painful to be in her head. There were flashes of happy times with the man he assumed was Mark — laughter, affection, comfort, sex, holidays — but all of it was blighted with grief. What's more the thoughts seemed to bombard him at an alarming rate and he was struggling to get them to slow down so that he could find some sort of timeline that would lead him to her memory of killing the man she'd loved.

He felt he was drawing closer when all of a sudden it was like he'd been plummeted into a dark, ice cold, pool. Instantly he was ricocheted out of her head and was back in the starkly lit room with Ginny beside him.

It took him a moment to realise he'd fallen off his chair. He felt embarrassed and defensive; that hadn't happened since he was practising on friends at the age of sixteen. He was an expert at this, he was a professional and, above all, he was a Malfoy. This kind of failure wasn't expected or tolerated.

He stood up, ignoring Ginny's proffered hand, and sat back on his seat. Laura looked shaky and clammy.

"Did you…did you feel that?"

"Evidently."

He immediately regretted his clipped response. He had to remember where he was and who he was dealing with. Ginny straightened up and cleared her throat.

"A word outside, please. I'm going to send a Healer in, Laura, to check you over."

Draco followed the short redhead into the corridor. After signalling over the Healer, and explaining what she needed her to do, Ginny began walking away towards an empty consulting room. Draco followed her inside and shut the door behind him before turning around to face her.

"What just happened?"

She wasn't angry but stern and direct. And, whilst she was trying to gain some sort of control, anxiety was clearly flitting across her features.

He thought back to it for a moment; dark and chilling the memory felt all consuming and more visceral than anything he'd experienced whilst performing Legilimency before. He'd also never been so forcefully repelled from someone's mind but was certain, now he was anticipating it, he'd be able to tackle it differently.

"The truth? I don't know. It…felt like sensory deprivation. I couldn't see anything; it was pitch black, freezing and just void of anything. It was where her memory of killing Mark should have been."

Ginny was trying to process this "so the memory didn't exist?"

"I think it _was_ a memory. If there had been something removed, or modified, you'd be able to tell. There would be evidence of that. You can go back and see it in any muggle who has had their memory wiped. That was a recollection of something but there was nothing within it. It was a vacuum."

"That doesn't make sense."

She began to pace around the little room, when she needed to think she had to move.

"Next time I'll be able to preempt it — "

Ginny froze.

"Next time? Malfoy! Are you crazy?"

"It's not normally as violent as that, I'll grant you, but it isn't unusual for a Legilimens to be thrown out of someone's mind." He seemed to have regained some of his composure now and was cool against the redhead's ire.

Ginny looked incredulous, "but this _is_ unusual, Draco, this isn't a normal jaunt into the thoughts of a normal person. This is a damaged young woman who has committed, and could be tried for, a terrible crime. This is new territory and it is my responsibility to ensure you are safe and that she is safe and that our case is not in any way compromised. This is my department, don't forget, and it all stops with me. I know this is experimental but I have to make sure everything is still legitimate and watertight otherwise there's no point at all."

She felt her anger, which had stemmed from confusion, fear and anxiety, begin to ebb away. She was breathing deeply, her cheeks slowly turning from a flushed red back to their usual pale complexion.

Draco let the silence settle in the aftermath of her speech. He knew she was passionate about her job and getting justice — she had to have been to consider bringing him, a Malfoy and generally untrusted person, onto the case — but the veracity of her convictions, her determination in getting this right, in finding a solution, had almost bowled him over.

"Look, whatever happened in there will not compromise this case; we have permission to be here, we have permission to try something new. I'm not saying we should do it again right now. I'd like to do some research and I have some work of my own in the Obliviator department to take care of. But, in a couple of days time, we should have another go."

Ginny looked up into his grey-blue eyes for a moment. He seemed sincere. She couldn't detect that he was pushing this for his own gain, or success, in any way. He seemed so calm and confident.

"I'm going to talk to the Healer about Laura — and to Laura herself — and if they give permission for us to try again then, yes, we'll try again with her. If not we'll move on to the others. I don't like it but we have to try and find out what it was you discovered in there and whether or not it's the same for all of them."

Somehow both of them knew it would be.

—

Ginny had just had a hot bath, changed into her oldest and comfiest pyjamas and sank down on the sofa with a large glass of red wine in her hand. From the first sip she felt herself starting to relax. She knew, when a case was as intense as the one she was working on now, she had a tendency to lean on alcohol a little too heavily. And, whilst she didn't often drink to excess, she knew she'd have to find another outlet soon; it couldn't always be a glass or two of wine at the end of the day.

She had Laura, Edward and Rosie's files beside her and the wireless network babbling in the background. Usually this would have been enough for her, usually this was all she wanted; she enjoyed hanging out with family, friends and colleagues occasionally but she liked her time alone. After growing up in such a noisy, bustling household Ginny revelled in the serenity and her own space. But, she had to admit, she was starting to feel a little lonely. Or rather she found herself feeling a little lonely without the man she'd spent the day with. Which was, of course, madness.

_Get a grip, Weasley. You barely even know him and the things you do know of him aren't good._

But…that was an outdated thought. A week ago she didn't know him at all other than his involvement with the Death Eaters and Voldemort but now she was starting to get a feel for him — for his intelligence, his humour and his way of working — and starting, despite herself, to like what she saw.

—


	5. Five

**Five**

Draco had spent another day in the company of Ginny Weasley. They had finally been permitted access to Laura again and he'd been prepared this time. He'd been waiting to fall into the darkness; it hadn't been easy to stay in the memory, and he felt drained from the sustained effort it had taken from him, but eventually it passed and he found himself in the memory of Laura when she had come back to reality and seen Mark in front of her, repeatedly stabbing himself. It had turned his stomach and almost broken his heart in the same instant. He'd felt her agony and shock as if they were his own emotions.

He'd passed his memory of Laura's recollection on to Ginny so she and her team could study it in a Pensieve and then they'd all sat around, eating food from a muggle takeaway restaurant, discussing the possibilities. In the end Draco had, had to leave; he was exhausted. Legilimency always took a lot out of him and too much time around people made him need to recharge but he'd stuck it out longer than necessary for her. _Because_ of her and _for _him. He liked her warmth and energy, her easy to laugh and quick to anger nature. She was fire beyond anything he'd known before and he found himself thinking of her often and actually missing her when he didn't have cause to visit her office or send her an owl.

It had only been ten days and yet, something about the intensity of this case and their roles within trying to solve it, seemed to have accelerated the relationship. It wasn't quite friendship yet, he thought, but it was getting there.

—

Ginny could feel her blood pounding in her ears: She hated giving press conferences. It had been two years since her promotion to seniority and the nerves never got any better. It wasn't the public speaking which caused her anxiety but the way words could be twisted and misconstrued — especially if you managed to catch sight of an acid green quill scribbling ferociously onto parchment of its own accord.

Someone had leaked stories to _The Prophet _about the Forgotten Murders, as they'd started to be known as in the department, and Mathilde had been putting pressure on Ginny to speak up about it and set the record straight so they could control how these crimes were being perceived and written about. It was also paramount that Laura, Edward and Rosie's identities were not revealed to the public; until they found out what was happening and just how much guilt should be attributed to them it wouldn't be professional, or morally right, to have them branded as murderers.

It had gone fairly well and there'd been a big crowd there. Most of the questions asked had been easy to answer or fob off under the guise of procedure. She wasn't certain it would generate any new leads — there was quite little to go on — but perhaps someone did see something in those areas or did know someone who was acting peculiarly. She'd assured them the MIU were doing all within their power, including consulting experts, to try and solve this as quickly as possible. They wanted to avoid mass panic — people thinking their mum, dad or sister was about to enchant them to kill themselves at any moment — and also did not want to encourage copycats.

"You did great, boss."

"Thanks, Tom. Still can't stand having to deal with press. I have to be so careful with everything I say."

Tom smiled to himself; Ginny was a fantastic Auror and leader but her temper, and bluntness, had gotten her into some scrapes with journalists in the early days of her career. They'd painted her as overemotional, too young and too female to be the rising through the ranks so quickly. He thought she'd gotten much better but he knew those stories and snide remarks in the articles still rankled at her. Her past was always there warning her not to go too far in press situations.

"I'm not going to stay; if I sit down I'll never get out the office again and I have dinner with my family tonight."

She was shuffling around papers on her desk, sorting into piles.

"Ah, Molly's famous cooking — bring me the leftovers!"

"Ha, it's a full house tonight so you'll be lucky."

Ginny had taken Tom to her family gatherings on occasions but her parents had started to hope that she was dating him and she hadn't wanted those thoughts to gain any momentum. Besides, she was certain Tom's boyfriend may have a thing or two to say about it.

"Is Malfoy in tomorrow — to do Edward and Rosie?"

"Yes. I don't think it's wise he do them both in one day but he seems pretty insistent that it'll be fine so…we'll see. At least he knows what he's looking for now but it doesn't seem to helping. I think we need to look into other options too…"

She trailed off in thought and began to lower herself into her desk chair; a look on her face that Tom knew well as Ginny's I'm-about-to-settle-down-for-a-good-brainstorm face.

"No, no, no you don't. Your family is expecting you."

Ginny's eyes focused again and she seemed to realise what she'd been doing.

"Ah, yes — thank you! I'm going, I'm going!"

—

He looked up from the evening edition of the paper.

_Ginny Weasley. _

A Weasley was investigating him.

Why weren't they sharing the details of his crimes? Why weren't they warning people to not trust anyone — not their husbands or wives or children? It was like they wanted _more _proof, more messages.

Well, he'd make them feel the pain he'd felt. He'd make them understand. Rely on no one. Trust no one. They can, and will, only let you down.

He knew where the Weasleys lived — who didn't? And if you couldn't trust a Weasley who could you trust? They'd have no choice but to speak openly and honestly about his work, his agony, after this.

—

"You made the news, sis."

Charlie strode into the kitchen and placed the paper in front of Ginny. There was a picture of her answering questions at the conference — tiny photo Ginny looked far more composed than normal sized, real life Ginny had felt — and a full page article beneath it. She scanned it quickly, saw they'd not managed to get anyone's names in there, and handed it back to her brother.

"Ugh, I've already lived it once, I don't need to see it again."

"Sounds like a rough case, Gin." Hermione had joined the discussion, sitting next to Ginny.

"It's grim and frustrating. As usual."

"This _expert_ you're consulting — that's Malfoy is it?"

"Malfoy? What's a Malfoy doing anywhere near law enforcement and the righting of wrongs?" George had entered the kitchen looking tired.

"George! Come on, everyone, sit down!" Mrs Weasley had been waiting for him before they could start dinner.

Dishes laden with potatoes, carrots and broccoli made their way to the table followed by an indecently large chicken and leek pie and a huge jug full of gravy.

Once Ron, Bill, Fleur and Arthur had sat down at the big wooden table, which was currently groaning beneath the amount of food on it, they all began to fill up their plates.

"Thanks, mum, this is great." Ginny smiled gratefully at her mum.

"I'm just glad to see you eating — you're getting far too thin, Ginevra, it's always the same when you're working too hard."

"I'm eating fine!"

"It's true, mum, she ate all of her meal and some of mine when we were out for dinner last week."

Ginny rolled her eyes; Ron had ordered enough food to feed a family of seven starving people and, if she remembered correctly, she'd had all of a couple of spoonfuls of his curry.

"So, Gin…Malfoy. How is it?"

George clearly wasn't going to let this one drop.

"It's good. Honestly — don't give me that face — he's pretty great to work with. A little overconfident —"

"Arrogant," provided Ron through a mouthful of food, spraying bits of carrot all over the place.

Hermione elbowed him in the ribs, "that's disgusting, Ron."

"He's Head Obliviator now, isn't he, Gin?" Bill now chiming in on the conversation.

"Yeah, that's right. He's doing some interesting stuff. He's smart."

Molly saw a little light in her daughter's eyes that she hadn't seen for a long time now. Not wanting to watch her other children quash this, she intercepted the conversation and changed the subject.

"That's enough work chatter. Ron, Hermione, how's that lovely house of yours coming along?"

—

Everyone else had left but Molly and Ginny were sat at the kitchen table drinking tea and Arthur had retired to the living room with a book on helicopters (a present from Hermione). Pots and pans were scrubbing themselves with soapy sponges and brushes over the sink. There was a faint warble coming from the wireless and the general sounds of the Burrow winding down for the day.

Ginny loved coming home. Her flat, and freedom, was wonderful but there was nothing quite like coming home. It was warm and cozy and full of memories.

—

He'd only come here on a surveillance mission; to scope out the grounds, the neighbours. To formulate a plan. But this higgledy piggledy house was in the middle of nothing but fields; no witnesses except gnomes and butterflies from the bottom of the garden. And there she was — Ginny Weasley — he could see her through the big kitchen windows. Sitting with her mother and laughing together. She was still wearing her clothes from the earlier press conference so there was no mistaking her. This was rash and spontaneous but when the universe handed him a gift like this how could he refuse?

Quietly, stealthily, he crept up closer to the house. He could feel enchantments on the property but they weren't strong; everyone had relaxed their grip once Voldemort had been defeated as though there could never be another danger. Like he had been the only thing to fear enough to ward your house against. He didn't care, it worked to his advantage for people to always assume that there was only one kind of threat to look out for.

He was so close he could hear them now, the quiet babble of voices.

Was he really going to do this?

Normally he stole something from his intended victim and possessed them from afar. He didn't need to be outside their house, on the scene of the crime like an idiot who was desperate to be seen and caught but…it would be fun to see it all play out in person for once. And who better to experience that with than the Head Auror tasked with finding him?

He wasn't sure when it began; when he realised he had a skill for possession. A Head Healer might say it came from his need to escape his own life, his own mind, with parents who tormented and tortured him but he didn't care to know why. For him it was just a tool he'd honed so he could finally — _finally _— pay back a world, a system, who'd never cared.

Through the slightly open window he whispered _mancipium _whilst focusing hard on Ginny Weasley, willing his mind to enter hers.

What happened next he hadn't anticipated. It was like he'd been slammed against a brick wall, head first. He felt the magic, and intention, he'd sent out into the world come back into him at an alarming rate.

Ginny fell backwards off her chair; it was unexpected and painful. She stood quickly, trying to regain her wits. It was like being hit with a hell of spell whilst you had your shield charm running. You wouldn't necessarily feel the spell's effects but you would feel the strength of the magic pushing against your protection.

"Mum get out of here now!"

Molly couldn't understand what was happening.

"Ginny — your head, you're bleeding!"

"It doesn't matter. Get dad, get out of here!"

She felt her hackles rise, she was getting ready for defence and battle. She pulled her wand out of her pocket and pointed it around the room.

"_Aparecium_" she hissed to the room. Ginny was feeling woozy from the bump on her head but she couldn't succumb to that now.

A bright light shot up from just outside the window and she ran for the backdoor.

"Aurors! Surrender!"

As she opened the door she caught sight of someone staggering to their feet, he shot a _Crucio _at her but she ducked and it just burnt the side of her face stinging but not quite the level of pain she's have felt if it had hit her properly.

She shot a stunning spell at him but he was already gone, Disapparated as she'd been distracted by defending his spell.

"_Fuck!"_

Suddenly Ginny felt her strength disappearing and her legs crumpled from beneath her.

—

_Idiot, idiot, idiot._

His parents had been right; he was useless. It had been impulsive and ridiculous to attempt to attack her in her home like that.

But what had been that wall he'd hit? The spell hadn't failed him for years. He'd been practising possessing small animals and young children for a long time before moving on to adults and it he'd been so successful for so long.

Had she seen him? He'd have to go to ground for a while and stay quiet, stay out of sight.

_Idiot._

—

Molly and Arthur hadn't left the Burrow; they loved that their daughter wanted to protect them but they'd fought and survived two wars. They were going to stand by their child and defend themselves. But once Molly had roused Arthur (who'd fallen asleep by the fire, his book unopened) and returned to the kitchen it was to see the backdoor swinging open, cold October air filling the house and Ginny lying on the ground, her long red hair tumbling out around her. One side of her face looked scorched, the other still bleeding heavily. She was breathing but it was slow and laboured.

"Quick Arthur — get her to St Mungo's!"

—


	6. Six

**Six**

Draco entered the incident room early that day hoping to snatch a few moments with Ginny alone to discuss his theory on the missing memories, however, upon reaching the temporary space the MIU was inhabiting he saw it had not been early enough. There was a flurry of activity and a few more bodies than usual although a distinct lack of flame red hair and snappy retorts.

Mathilde Durand was sat at Ginny's desk and was deep in discussion with Tom and Angela, the most senior Aurors after Ginny herself on the team. She was a striking woman; tall and lithe with dark skin and large eyes that made you feel like she could see right through you. Draco had heard of her reputation long before working alongside Ginny but never actually met her in person.

The buzz of activity died down as he walked through the office towards Mathilde.

"Ah, Malfoy, excellent. We'd been waiting for you." She was perfectly polite but something in her tone made him feel as though she was reproaching him for being late to an appointment he hadn't known he'd agreed to attend. She reminded him a little of his mother.

"Apologies, I didn't think I was needed until eight."

"Did you not hear? Ginny was attacked last night. She's in St Mungo's. She's stable but been put into a dreamless sleep whilst they fix her injuries."

Draco felt something come to life in his chest; a roaring, blazing, need to protect her. To be by her side. He also felt shock because, to him, Ginny had seemed somewhat infallible. Strong and resilient and brave.

"How? Who did it?"

"We don't know. All sorts of weirdoes can come out of the woodwork after we do press conferences. She's going to be woken up in a couple of hours and we'll be able to question her more then." Angela answered. She was broad woman with muscular arms and short brown hair.

"Was she attacked at home?"

"No," Tom spoke this time, "she was at The Burrow. It was a Weasley family gathering last night."

"Anyone else hurt?"

"No, it was only Ginny, Molly and Arthur in the house when it happened. Molly says Ginny was sitting there chatting when suddenly she froze and was thrown to the ground by some sort of hex or jinx.

She got up, told her mum to run and must have gone out to face the assailant. Foolish to go alone but she never did have much regard for her own safety. Once her parents had returned to the kitchen to help she had already collapsed outside. Injured but alive." Mathilde paused for a moment.

"Now, I know this will be a little inconvenient for you, Malfoy, as you've been working alongside Ginny but Tom will lead the investigation for now until we can find out what happened last night. I know you haven't known her too long but I'm sure you can appreciate we're very concerned about her so apologies if we take a while to get going this morning."

_Bugger that_, he was concerned for Ginny. This wasn't _inconvenient_ — it was concerning, heart stopping, anxiety inducing —inconvenient suggested a last minute change to casual plans, your owl getting lost on it's way to deliver a letter or paper cut.

He gathered his thoughts and said, "actually, I just came in to tell you that I had an important meeting this morning in my department so I wouldn't able to perform Legilimency on Edward or Rosie until this afternoon. I hope this is okay?"

Tom looked surprised; Malfoy had been dogged with this case. He'd been there almost as much as the rest of them. In fact he'd been there so much, even before they'd been permitted to continue working on the victims, that Ginny had even commented that his own department was surely struggling without him being around although he'd been certain his boss wasn't entirely displeased with Draco's presence.

Mathilde looked a little wrong footed too.

"Okay, Malfoy, that's fine. Tom will rearrange the appointments for later in the day."

Draco nodded and turned on his heel, marching away from the department as quickly as he could. Once back in the sanctuary of his office, and after barking to the room at large not to interrupt him, he threw a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace, stepped into the green flames and firmly stated his destination.

_St Mungos._

He figured it wouldn't be too strange for him to be there; he'd spent a lot of time at the hospital recently with Ginny and was due to meet Tom there later.

Thankfully Draco didn't need to ask at reception where to find her (he suspected as he was neither family nor an Auror he wouldn't be granted that information) as in the main waiting room of the hospital he caught sight of Ginny's oldest brother, Bill, talking to Ron just as they were walking into the main building.

"She's on the fourth floor?"

"Yeah, she's got a private room. Security protected and all that in case the bloody nutter who did this tries to come back."

"How's she doing?"

"Alright — healing. They're just trying to figure out what he hit her with to begin with. That seems to be what caused her to be so weakened. Meant it was harder for her body to sort itself out."

"How's mum?"

"Awful, she feels guilty for leaving the room to get dad."

The conversation disappeared behind closing lift doors and Draco could eavesdrop no longer. He didn't know why he hadn't considered all of her family would be there. He didn't even really know why this was effecting him so badly; he wasn't a man who, generally, felt extreme emotions. But he had grown fond of Ginny Weasley and Draco was the kind of person that, once someone had been let into his life, he would do almost anything for them.

He took the stairs, enjoying the physical exertion, and thought about what he would say to the Weasley clan once he reached the top.

By the time he arrived at the fourth floor he was a little out of breath and had decided he didn't care if her family wondered why he'd felt the need to rush to her side. She was a colleague and, as of recently, a friend of his. He wouldn't mention the fact he thought that maybe, just maybe, he could fall for Ginny Weasley. In fact, he wouldn't even discuss that with himself.

—

There were two stern Law Enforcement grunts outside of her room ensuring her safety. Draco approached them and fished out his Ministry ID.

"Draco Malfoy, I'm here to see Ginny Weasley."

Grunt One looked at him blankly.

"Don't think so, mate. Clear off."

"Excuse me?" Draco felt incredulous and thoroughly pissed off.

"You heard," Grunt Two chimed in. "It's family and Ministry officials only."

"I _am _a Ministry official for Slytherin's sake."

The two of them looked at the ID he was thrusting under their noses.

"Sorry, mate, you're not an Auror."

"Oh for love of — I'm her friend and colleague, let me through!"

"What is going on out here?" Molly Weasley burst out into the corridor, ready to hex the person causing such a disturbance right outside her daughters ward. Several Weasley family faces peered out at Draco and the two guards. Ron had a smirk on his face at seeing Draco so flustered.

"Sorry, Mrs Weasley but…well, I just heard about Ginny and I wanted to come see her. I wanted to…to make sure she was alright."

Molly had heard many things about the youngest Malfoy over the years; arrogant, bully, Death Eater, coward. But the man stood before her looked a little disheveled but sincere and full of concern for her daughter. He didn't seem so much like Lucius but like Narcissa who, despite some of her attitudes and actions, ultimately had a loyal heart and loved and protected her own.

"I didn't realise you were quite such good friends with my daughter."

He flushed.

"No, I haven't known her too long, that's true. But, well, she makes quite the impression."

"Merlin, Malfoy, get in or shut the door. Your theatrics are letting the cold air in."

Ginny's voice was groggy but there was unmistakably a teasing tone to her words.

Having no choice the guards, and Mrs Weasley, stepped aside to let the blond man in. He felt self-conscious now Ginny was awake and watching him from her sick bed not to mention the six pairs of Weasley eyes on him.

"Trust you to make _my _life threatening situation about _you_, Malfoy."

"I, er, sorry. I didn't mean to cause that much of a situation."

Ron looked between Malfoy and his sister. She was, undoubtably, pleased to see him here.

Bill broke the momentary silence.

"I'm going to get a coffee — would anyone like anything?"

George and Charlie volunteered to go with him and Molly and Arthur said they'd go and find a Healer now Ginny was awake to talk through her condition.

"Mum, can you send a letter to Mathilde too, please? They'll want to know I'm awake again."

Ron stayed put, taking a seat by the little window, unwilling to leave his sister with just Malfoy. Not that he thought he would hurt her but, all the same, he didn't want to leave Ginny's side for a while.

Draco perched on the seat closest to Ginny and took in her injuries. The burn on her face was almost completely healed but he knew from personal experience that Crucio scars took a while to fade and to stop stinging. Other surface wounds the Healers had clearly taken care of in the night.

She took in his freshly pressed robes and slightly ruffled hair.

"You didn't have to come, you know." "I can leave if you like?" "No, no, I…it's nice to have you here."

"What happened?" "I don't know. One minute I was talking with mum and the next I'm rocketing off my chair and slamming into the ground. I felt like I'd been hit by a ten tonne bludger. I got up, tried to get my mum out of there and performed a revealing spell."

Draco nodded, encouraging her to continue, knowing the some of the tale already but wanting Ginny to tell him everything in her own words.

"It showed me someone was outside. A man I think. He was stumbling about too, I think whatever curse he was trying to cast backfired. He shot Crucio at me and a I tried to move out the way but I still wasn't recovered from the first hit. He grazed me."

She put her hand up to indicate the side of her face that was still pink and sore looking.

"And then I collapsed. I don't remember much more other than being rushed in here. It was stupid, I should have been more careful but that first spell totally disorientated me, I wasn't thinking clearly at all."

Ron felt a little strange watching the conversation from afar. It was like Draco and Ginny had forgotten he was there.

"How do you feel now?" Draco's voice was low and tender.

"Tired mostly. A bit embarrassed, I guess, too. And this is no fun." She pointed again at her injured cheek and jaw.

"You need more soothing salve for that. It will go down in a couple of days." Draco looked at her bedside table and indicated the small purple pot. "This will help."

"Do you think it's anything to do with the case? Or any of your cases?"

"It's possible. I'm in the sort of job where you make enemies pretty easily and I had just done a big press conference. I don't know. It's weird they'd have gone to The Burrow though; I don't live there anymore and haven't for years now."

"So you think your parents were the target?"

"Perhaps. Have you made any progress?"

"You don't want to talk about that." "I do, honestly, anything to get my mind off lying here being useless."

"Doesn't usually phase you." "Oh, ha ha, kick a witch whilst she's down why don't you."

But she did smile and that's what he'd been after.

"Well, it's just a theory but I think they're being possessed. It would explain why there's a memory still in there, but also why it doesn't seem to contain anything because whilst that person is present they aren't mentally in control at the moment."

Ginny, if possible, went even paler.

"If you're right then I think he was there with me last night."

Ron had hurried over to her bedside and grabbed her hand, holding tight. Ginny looked as if she was about to be sick.

Draco looked from one sibling to the other. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because when I turned seventeen I acquired some tattoos. They're ancient markings filled with magic and protection. I know what it's like to have your mind taken over and have your body commit crimes you'd never dream of so I took a precaution that it would never happen to me again."

It dawned on Draco; the Chamber of Secrets. He'd never known the details of exactly what had happened but it was common knowledge that Ginny Weasley had been at the centre of it all and had been enchanted to aid the opening of the chamber.

"That's why it felt like I'd put up a shield charm when I hadn't. The runes on my skin were protecting me."

"We don't know for sure," said Ron wanting to stop his sister working herself into a frenzy. The Chamber of Secrets had tormented Ginny for so long.

"Oh, come on, if Draco suspects it's possession causing the memory loss in the others then all that shit last night makes perfect sense."

Just then a Healer walked into the room, followed by Molly and Arthur, and raised an eyebrow at the scene before her.

"Just what is going on here? Miss Weasley why do you look like you're about to go into battle when what I need you to do is lie down and relax?"

"I think we may have just had some sort of breakthrough in a big case and I think it may have something to do with who attacked me last night."

"Oh?"

"I can't talk about the case with you, you know that. But I think last night someone tried to possess me and I think my tattoos — my protection runes — reacted to the spell and acted like a type of shield. That's why the spell couldn't actually touch me."

Her parents and the Healer were looking at Ginny like she was a little mad.

"Look — mum, dad I'm sorry — but I got some tattoos when I was seventeen. I don't know if it's because Voldemort had risen to power again but all the nightmares about Tom Riddle came back. I couldn't sleep, could barely eat or focus on anything other than the fear that I might be used as a puppet by him again."

The room had become very still.

"So I researched anti-possession precautions and found that some people believed tattooing a pentagram, alongside other protective symbols, onto their bodies could assist if someone ever tried to take over your body or mind. I didn't know if it would work but I did it anyway. Even the thought that I'd taken measures against it happening again made me feel stronger, protected. But, I think they do work and I think last night proves that."

"Ginny, you've been through a lot —"

"Dad, please, I'm not thinking about this as a civilian. I'm thinking about it with my Auror brain; the detective in me, and my instincts, are telling me I'm right about this."

"Well, is there any way to check?" Asked Ron, wanting desperately for Ginny to calm down just in case she collapsed again from exhaustion.

The Healer looked as though she was on rocky ground but seemed to want to appease Ginny who her colleagues had spoken highly of when they'd worked alongside her.

"Perhaps I could examine these tattoos, Ginny, if you'll let me? I saw them, of course, when were scanning you for residual curses or ailments but didn't really pay much attention as so many people have tattoos these days."

Ginny nodded.

Arthur, Molly, Draco and Ron stood back away from the bed as the curtain was pulled around it. Once she was fully concealed Ginny lifted up her t-shirt and sat with her back facing the Healer, her arms folded across her bare chest. She felt bizarre being so exposed knowing her family and, of course, Draco were in the room even though they couldn't see her.

All the way down the line of her spine were little spidery black marks representing strength, protection and anti possession. She felt the Healer's cool fingers run over the tattoos. Ginny flinched slightly.

"Did that hurt?"

"Not really, just felt like a little stinging hex."

"Hmm, they're raised too. Bumpy as though they had only been done a few days ago. I'm not an expert on this, Ginny, by any stretch of the imagination but I would say you could have some validity in your theory. They certainly seem as though something has galvanised them into action recently."

Ginny couldn't wait to talk to her team, this might be their first breakthrough in weeks.

—

Both Mathilde and the Healers had insisted Ginny be taken off active duty for a few days; it was important she recuperated and had chance to process the attack. Despite no lasting damage occurring it was still a difficult thing to come to terms with — a potential killer visiting your home and attacking yourself or your family — and Mathilde wasn't willing to mess around with the mental or physical health of any of her staff. But they had agreed to hear her and Draco out on the theory they'd cultivated.

"…possession?"

"Yes," said Draco firmly, "I had come to this conclusion last night before knowing Ginny had been attacked. That's why I came into the department earlier this morning, I wanted to talk to the team about my theory. It's perfectly plausible that when someone is possessed their mind just goes elsewhere — into a void or vacuum — and when the possession is over they're allowed full control of their faculties once more."

"As someone who has been possessed it definitely feels that way; to you no time has elapsed but you find yourself somewhere and you don't remember getting there. You must have been doing something but you have no recollection of it because it isn't your mind that's in control therefore no memories are generated. It's just…nothing."

Tom thought it sounded like a pretty good hunch; he'd worked with Ginny for a few years now and was happy to follow her lead when she had some sort of gut feeling about a case.

"So we think this perpetrator was present at all these murders, like he was at your parents house, Ginny?"

"I don't think so."

"No, I don't believe he was either." Agreed Draco, "my team and I combed through all the witnesses memories of the incidents again and there wasn't anyone who stood out as being the same in each separate case."

"Polyjuice potion?" Mathilde wanted to believe this theory, wanted to just let her Aurors run with it, but she had to test it and make sure they thought about the different angles.

"Potentially," conceded Ginny, "but I don't think so. Possession isn't something you actually _need _to be present to do and, if he's as powerful as that spell he tried against me felt, he could definitely do it from afar."

"Although he would need an article of clothing or a photograph to help focus the spell." Draco had been reading up on possession the previous evening. It sounded like a tricky area of magic to master.

"And then he doesn't need to be there because…he sort of _is _there in their minds. He's using their eyes to see and their wands to commit awful crimes all from the safety of his own home." The more Ginny talked about this the more she could see a profile of their killer taking shape.

"I say we pursue this lead, we don't have much else to go on at the moment and this seems fairly solid as far as theories go," reasoned Tom, "Ginny do you feel up to letting us have a copy of your memory from last night? We could try and see if we can pick up on something you didn't in the moment."

"Yes, of course, and go over their homes again — see if you can find _anything _that links those victims. There has to be something. They have to have encountered this man some time. And talk to neighbours again but go back even earlier — sales people or workmen in the area."

Even from her sick bed Ginny would always try and help run an investigation.

"Good idea, Ginny," applauded Mathilde, "and thank you both for your work on this so far. Tom — you and Draco go check in on the other two people, look at their memories. Get Angela to question all three of them. Did they do anything, or meet anyone, new recently? Find out."

No one moved.

"Did I stutter? Get going. And, Ginny, try to rest, please. I want you back as soon as you can so I need you to listen to your Healers and get better."

—

There was a small article in the _Prophet _about Ginny Weasley's attack but she was making wonderful progress and would hopefully be back up and about soon.

He jabbed the paper ferociously with his wand and it went up in a jet of flames.


	7. Seven

**Seven**

_Ginny._

_Want to come to the Manor tonight? I'll cook._

_D._

The owl had arrived about half an hour after she'd settled back in to her flat. She'd been discharged from the hospital not long after her meeting with Mathilde, Tom and Draco. Her parents had wanted her to come back to The Burrow (protection spells well and truly reinforced) but she had needed to be in her own home. She wanted to shower and wash her hair, wear comfortable clothes and stretch out on her sofa. The safety spells around her own flat had always been extremely strong; as an Auror she couldn't take chances that something like last night wouldn't happen to her.

Did she want to go to Malfoy Manor? She wasn't entirely sure. But did she want to see Draco? That felt like a resounding yes on so many levels. She was dying to hear about the Legilimency on Edward and Rosie, wanted to know how the case was progressing and, finally, she wanted to see Draco properly out of hours. She was so keen to know what he was like away from the Ministry, away from colleagues and family and friends.

_Yes, please. See you at 8. _

_G._

_PS. I sincerely hope you can cook, two trips to St Mungo's in a week is just depressing._

Draco snorted as he read her response. He felt relieved; the second he'd sent that owl he'd regretted it, worrying that she may think him mad for trying to engage her socially after such an awful incident but she had wanted to see him. Pulling on his coat he headed out to the village, he hadn't done any food shopping in about a week so unless Ginny fancied porridge for her dinner he needed to gather some supplies.

—

Ginny stood under the hot shower washing her hair whilst carefully avoiding the burns on the side of her face. The Healers had assured her they would disappear completely in a week or so; she half wished she'd just absorbed the Crucio curse rather than having it burn her as it flew past. Nasty piece of magic.

_Done by a nasty piece of work._

In the excitement of finally making a little progress in the case and the hubbub of all her family and friends and Healers being in and out to see her at the hospital, Ginny hadn't really taken a moment to pause and reflect on everything. It was scary being in the firing line and she had insisted all family and close friends increase their home security. Mathilde had sent out a department wide warning too just in case he tried the same thing on another Auror's family.

She probably shouldn't be going out tonight as she still felt a bit battered and sore and tired but Ginny figured Draco would understand that. She'd been touched by his concern at the hospital and had liked that he cared enough to almost start a fight with two guards sent there for her protection.

Once out the shower Ginny used a drying charm on her hair, pulled on a white t-shirt, thick green jumper and her comfiest pair of black jeans. She wasn't dressing to impress but thought she didn't look too bad under the circumstances. She applied a thin layer of salve to her face, picked up her wand, a bottle of wine and Apparated the Malfoy Manor.

—

"I saw Malfoy in the village earlier."

"Oh yeah?" Ron said through his yawn, it had been a very long day. He hadn't been to bed since the night before when an owl had woken him and Hermione up to tell him about Ginny.

"Mm. He stopped and spoke to me. He asked me if Ginny liked lamb."

Ron raised his eyebrows.

"And why would he need to know that?"

"Apparently she's going to the Manor this evening."

Ron looked incredulous, "the bloody creep. She's supposed to be resting up not gallivanting around his house. Just like a Malfoy to try and make some sort of a move at a time like this."

Hermione laughed at her boyfriend, "oh really, Ron? How would you know?"

"Well…just seems the type of thing he'd do."

"Ginny is more than capable of looking after herself. I'm sure she'd have told him to get lost if it was something she found inappropriate. Besides, it sounds like they've spent a lot of time together recently."

Ron took a sip of his tea.

"She did seem awfully pleased when he came bursting into her room earlier." He admitted reluctantly. "Haven't seen her like that in a while around a guy. Ugh, but why does it have to be Malfoy?"

Hermione resumed chopping onions and smiled to herself. Ginny hadn't made time for herself or a partner in a very long time. She had often wondered if Ginny would ever seek a relationship again, she had seemed so wrapped up in work. And here was Malfoy — slightly reclusive with a shady past and childhood rival of herself, Ron and Harry — seemingly sweeping her off her feet.

It would be interesting to see where this went. Hermione was hopeful. Ron, rather reluctantly, was too.

—

Ginny arrived five minutes early. The Manor was impressive, naturally, and less domineering than she'd anticipated even on a dark evening. She crunched up the gravel path towards the front entrance, passing trees that, she knew, in the day would be a riot of red and yellow autumnal leaves. The door opened just as she reached it and Draco was standing there barefoot in jeans and a t-shirt. His hair was a little damp and tousled. She was glad he didn't look as pristine as usual, he normally made her feel very untidy.

"Hi. The wards alerted me you were here. Sorry. I never know if it's a weird thing to do — answering the door before someone even rings the bell." He was babbling.

"Hi."

She stood in front of him and he moved aside to let her pass. She smelt fresh and clean; of soap and shampoo.

"I bought this for you."

Ginny thrust the bottle of red wine in his hand and, before he could say thank you, she was hanging her coat up on the hooks by the door and kicking off her shoes. He shut the door and it sealed itself magically.

"Come through to the kitchen."

Draco led the way to the kitchen — his pride and joy — and Ginny followed. It was a large country kitchen with a big oak table in the middle, terracotta tiles and jars upon jars of herbs, spices, flours and grains. Something was simmering away on the stove and it smelt incredible; spicy and warm.

"Oh wow, you weren't kidding, you're really cooking."

Draco laughed and Ginny noticed there was something very relaxed about him in this environment. In his home, playing host.

"I love to cook. After the war I didn't want to go out much and my parents fled England so I hung out a lot at Blaise Zabini's house. He's a great cook — learnt from his grandmother — and he taught me how to do it."

"Well, that's certainly some sort of silver lining."

She smiled at him. There was no malice in her words. No indication she was thinking about how they'd stood on opposites sides of the battlefield.

"Would you like a drink? I have some red wine open."

"That would be great, thanks."

He poured her a generous measure into a wine glass and the tips of her fingers brushed his as she took it from him. She felt herself blush. _Get a bloody hold of yourself, Weasley._

Draco turned back to the stove and carried on stirring the pot, adding sprinklings of herbs and seasonings as he went along.

There was classical music playing out of the wireless and Ginny found herself relaxing muscles she hadn't known had been tensed; the ambience, the warmth, the smells and sounds all made her feel at home somehow.

She found herself gravitating towards him, wanting to stand close to him and bask in his calm energy.

"So, what are you cooking?"

Draco felt hyper aware of her standing beside him. A couple more inches and they'd actually be touching; energy seem to fizzle and crack in the space between them.

"Lamb tagine. It's a spiced stew from Morocco."

"It smells great."

"Want to give it taste test?"

He handed her a spoonful of the rich deep red sauce. It was delicious; cinnamon, chilli and paprika danced across her tongue.

"It's amazing. I'll need to get this recipe off you." "You like to cook?"

"I like to _try_." She pulled herself up so she was sitting on the counter beside the hob and hoped he wasn't so much of a neat freak that he'd tell her off for doing so. "Although it very rarely turns out as nice as this. My mum is a brilliant cook but I didn't quite inherit all her skill."

"Well, I'd say you make up for it elsewhere."

She didn't know how to respond so took a big sip of her wine.

"How did the rest of today go?"

"Good. We performed Legilimency on Edward and Rosie and found the same thing as with Laura. Blank spaces where memories should be."

"I'm such an idiot — I don't know how it never occurred to me it could be possession and I spent six months of my life _being possessed._"

"We don't always want to see what's there if it's painful. I know that. Merlin, most adults know that feeling."

"Yeah, I suppose so. What about the other stuff?"

"Tom said they had teams going back over everyone's movements up to six months before the murder took place to see if they could find a common thread amongst them."

"Let's bloody hope they do otherwise we're stuck until he commits another crime."

Draco placed two white bowls on the counter, spooned in some fluffy, pomegranate studded, couscous and ladled on a generous portion of the tagine.

"Trying to fatten me up, Malfoy?"

"Well it wouldn't hurt."

She rolled her eyes, "have you been talking to my mother?"

He grinned, "yes, actually, but only briefly and only about the weather and other such polite topics. We'll cover your weight next time."

"A comic genius, that's you, gonna kill 'em on the comedy circuit."

She slid off the counter and followed him to the dining table. He placed their bowls so that they would be sitting next to one another on the corner. Close, intimate. Mimicking how they'd sat at the breakfast meeting they'd had a couple of weeks before. How long ago that seemed, how different it was now.

Neither spoke for a moment whilst they ate the first few bites of the meal. Ginny could feel her knee almost flush against his and was grateful she could blame her pink cheeks on the wine and the heat of the kitchen.

"Thanks for cooking for me, Malfoy. As it turns out I'm not sure I did want to be alone this evening."

"You called me Draco earlier."

"Did I?"

"It seems nicer than Malfoy."

_Friendlier. Closer._

"Yeah, I know what you mean, Malfoy is an _awful _name."

He nudged her playfully, "oh and _WEASLE_y is so much better."

Ginny laughed.

"Fair enough. It's not a great name. Neither is Ginny though really…does anyone ever actually like their name?"

"I like the name Ginny. I prefer Ginevra though."

"I sort of forget that's my full name sometimes. Until mum shrieks it, of course."

"Do you see your parents a lot?"

"I try and see them every week, work depending, we're pretty close."

Draco's face darkened slightly, "that must be nice."

"And…your parents? They live abroad?"

"In France. They'll never come back here. We see each other every now and again but…well, somethings will just never be the same again." They lapsed into silence — not uncomfortable but both a little lost in thought — and continued to demolish the food in front of them. Ginny was almost defeated by the gargantuan portion Draco had served her.

"Do you like living here alone? It's quite big for one person."

"You know what? I really didn't think I would. I thought I'd hate it but, since doing some of the redecoration and renovation work, I really love living here. Bad things happened in this house but the good always far outweighs the bad and I thought it would be a real shame to let this place go to ruin or be sold off. The Malfoys perhaps didn't always go about things the right way but, on the whole, I am proud to be a part of this family."

He said this almost defiantly as though he expected Ginny to scoff at him for his family pride. She seemed to sense this.

"Maybe three months ago I'd have said you were mad, Draco, but now I'd say if the Malfoys can produce you then they must be doing something right."

He blushed. He actually blushed.

"That wine must be stronger than I thought. I'll have to cut you off."

She smiled down at her food rather than choosing to comment further.

—

Once they'd finished eating and set the pots to wash themselves up, Ginny half expected Draco to say he was tired or needed to work and she would take this as a hint to leave.

Instead he said, "do you like films?"

"Films?" "Muggle films, cinemas, you know? Surely you've seen a film?"

"Oh, Hermione invited us around for a film night once, yeah. I enjoyed it."

"Would you like to watch something now?"

"_You're _into muggle films?"

"Yes."

"Draco Malfoy, prince of Slytherin, likes muggles films?"

"Do you want to watch one or not?"

She was comfortable here in the Manor and she hadn't really wanted to leave just yet so she agreed. Draco's face lit up like a child at Christmas. He had set up a room about a year ago in the Manor where muggle gadgets could work as usually the old magic in the house seemed render anything running on electricity useless.

"Blaise, Pansy and I try to go to the cinema every couple of weeks but sometimes it's really nice to able to watch something in your own home."

Whatever Ginny had expected when she'd asked Malfoy for his help those few weeks ago this could not be further from it. It astounded her that she liked Draco never mind that he was a fairly well rounded, thoughtful man with a penchant for muggle culture.

The room was set up with a big squashy corner sofa and an enormous projector screen. Around the walls were hundreds of boxes with film titles on.

"Bloody hell, Ma—Draco, this is mad."

Before she knew it they were sat in the dark watching a film that Draco had seen before but was certain Ginny would love. She had taken the corner section of the sofa and had her legs stretched out in front of her. She could sense his closeness, smell his cologne.

He hadn't known what had made him suggest the film but it had been getting late and he knew he didn't want the evening to end yet. He hadn't really expected her to agree but then so much of about Ginny Weasley, and his life recently, had been unexpected.

Draco was hyper aware of his arm resting so close to hers, it wouldn't take much to reach out, to hold her hand in his. He felt her slouch down a little further on the sofa and, before he could act on his compulsion, she had rested her head on his shoulder. Encouraged he reached out and enclosed her hand in his. She didn't pull away and, if anything, it felt as though she had pulled herself closer.

Ginny had butterflies in her stomach; she knew they'd just crossed a line into new territory but it could be discussed another time. Tonight she just wanted to lie here with him and figure out what it all meant in the morning.

—

The credits were rolling and Ginny had been asleep for the past hour and a half. The attack, the medicine, the food, the wine and warmth of lying against another human had seen her dozing off way before the end of the film. Draco wasn't sure whether to wake her or simply let her sleep. The decision was taken out of his hands, however, when she stirred by herself. She looked up at him sleepily.

"I'm sorry," she began to sit up, "_ouch!"_

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just my bloody face. I didn't bring that salve with me. I guess I should head home — I'm hardly the best guest right now."

"I have some actually. If you…if you wanted to stay. In a spare room. You don't have to sleep with me to get the salve. Or stay."

Despite the pain she was laughing now at his awkward ramblings.

"Nice to see my squirming amuses you so much, Weasley."

"It was some very excellent squirming though. Deserved to be thoroughly laughed at. Maybe even mocked at some point in the future."

He flicked his wand and the light came on, despite the angry looking skin on the side of her face, she looked beautiful sat there laughing (even if she was laughing at him).

"So, once you've recovered…would you like to stay here tonight?"

She grew suddenly more serious, almost smouldering as she looked back at him. "In a spare room. Yes, please, I'd like to stay."

He held out his hand to help her up off the sofa and Ginny just didn't let go as he led her through the house. They stopped off at a large bathroom covered in gleaming white towels where he opened a cabinet and pulled out a small purple tub like the one she'd had at home.

"Sit here a moment."

She sat on the edge of the bath and he knelt down until he was eye level with her.

"May I?"

He'd unscrewed the lid and put a little of salve on his fingers.

She nodded.

Gently, reverently, he began to cover her burns in the cream. She instantly felt the pain ebbing away. Ginny watched as he replaced the lid on the container, washed his hands and then pulled a toothbrush out of the little cupboard.

"It's a spare. Never used, I promised."

She smiled, "thank you."

"Take that salve with you. Come on, I'll show you where to sleep."

It took another five minutes of walking through the Manor before he stopped at a room which contained a large mahogany bed, beautiful white bedding and fat, feather pillows. It looked like heaven to Ginny in that moment.

"There's a bathroom through that door there," he pointed to a door adjoining the room, "and I'm just down the hall if you need anything."

She turned to face him; they were so close she'd just have to reach up on tip toes to kiss him but something held her back.

"Goodnight, Draco, thanks again for this evening. It was just what I needed."

"Night, Ginny, see you in the morning."

He lingered a moment before reaching up and tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Sleep well."

And with the he left her to it. She felt slightly bemused by the turn that the evening, and their relationship, had taken. It would be interesting to see how it measured up in the cold light of day but, for now, Ginny was going to brush her teeth, strip down to her underwear and fall asleep in that beautiful bed.

—


	8. Eight

**Eight**

Tom and Angela hadn't left the office in just over thirty hours; they'd taken brief naps on the sofa, drank multiple cups of coffee and smoked far too many cigarettes. Taking all the notes and statements the junior Aurors had gathered they had filled three boards with dates and times and appointments of the victims. They were searching for something, anything, which could connect them.

They had, had several false leads and moments where they thought they'd almost cracked it. But the break actually came when Melissa, the family liaison Auror, had knocked on the incident room door with some information she'd gleaned from Rosie's brother. Rosie and her parents had attended a distant cousins wedding three weeks before. It wasn't written in any of their diaries, and Tom wasn't sure why it had taken so long for the information to come to light, but it did highlight a pattern: all the victims had attended weddings three to four weeks prior to their deaths. Angela had briefed the team that morning to gather guest lists and the names of venue staff, caterers, bands, photographers and anyone else who may have attended. They just needed to find a common thread amongst them and the Aurors were certain this would lead them to their killer.

—

Ginny didn't want to open her eyes; it was warm and comfortable and she'd been having the very best sleep. She was preparing herself for the dash across the cold floor to the bathroom when she remembered that she wasn't in her little flat. She wasn't anywhere near cold draughty floors. She was in Malfoy Manor. She'd been sleeping in Draco Malfoy's spare bedroom (or one of the spare bedrooms, there was bound to be at least eight). Her eyes opened wide as though she had to see it to really believe her own thoughts.

It was a beautiful room; large windows currently obscured by wooden shutters, the tiniest bits of light breaking through the slats. Wooden flooring and blissfully white walls with pieces of art hung all over them. She suddenly felt mortified about the evening before, she'd never acted that way with a colleague before and she particularly didn't often seek comfort in the arms of men she barely knew. But it had felt so comfortable and right in the moment and, she wondered, if friendship had ever been on the cards for them or had it always just been a type of chemistry beyond the platonic?

She was being ridiculous. Malfoy had felt sorry for her and took pity on her. She'd invaded his home and made herself so conformable and at ease that he'd felt guilty for turfing her out — images flitted through her mind; holding his hand, laughing at dinner, him tucking her hair behind her ear — or perhaps not. He wasn't the type to take pity on people, didn't put himself out because a woman he'd only really known a few weeks was feeling low.

_Ugh._

She'd overthink later. She disentangled herself from the gloriously comfortable sheets, picking up the soothing salve as she went, and entered the ensuite bathroom.

"_Bloody hell.__"_

Malfoy was so stinking rich. The bathroom was decorated in gleaming white tiles with a large mirror covering the entire wall above the sink. The shower was enormous and there was an array of brightly coloured bottles lining the shelves. Big fluffy green towels were there waiting for her and Ginny couldn't resist turning on the shower — the water was instantly hot — and she stepped in taking a couple of the bottles with her.

Careful not splash her healing injuries, Ginny washed her hair with a shampoo that smelt of violets and scrubbed body her body until she was sure the scent of peach would be embedded in her skin forever. Pity or not it was worth it for this shower alone. And that tagine the night before. Who knew that Malfoy could cook? Nothing she'd thought she'd known about Draco had been right at all.

After some time Ginny turned off the taps, wrapped a large towel around her and stepped out of the shower. She swept her hair up in another towel and wiped the condensation off the mirror so she could take a look at her face. The burns were fading and did feel slightly less tight today. She brushed her teeth, with a toothbrush that had been sat there waiting for her, and reapplied her ointment. She wasn't a particularly vain witch but Ginny couldn't wait for the red marks to be gone entirely from her face. They made her feel ugly, vulnerable. And, although she knew Draco had known what she looked like before the attack, she felt particularly insecure knowing she wanted him to think of her as an attractive woman.

Back in the bedroom, Ginny saw that her clothes from the night before had been washed and folded in a neat pile. House Elves. She had wondered about the shampoos and the toothbrush but wasn't certain he'd have House Elves after seeing him cook and enchant the washing up the night before but it did make sense in a house this big. She just wouldn't mention that bit to Hermione.

There was also a package of clean underwear beside her clothes. How they'd known her size she'd never know, or question, but was grateful all the same.

—

"Tom — Tom, wake up! — I've got it! Look."

Tom blearily got to his feet; he'd finally fallen into a deep, deep sleep and was struggling understand why he was in his office and why Angela was yelling at him.

"The photographer they used —"

"It's not the same studio."

"No but they all do use the same freelancer when something is last minute or one of their usual people calls in sick."

He was listening now.

"The reason the cousins wedding wasn't in their diaries was because it was last minute — the couple wanted to elope but knew their families would hate it so they just did a last minute ceremony and had a big party in their home. Relatives cooked the meal, their friend's band was the entertainment, the bride wore a secondhand dress. The only real extravagance was them paying out for a professional photographer so they could capture the whole day. This studio didn't have anyone around at that short notice so they pulled in this guy."

Angela tapped a small photo that the studio had sent over to her — she had been busy in the couple of hours or so Tom had been sleeping — and he looked closely at the face looking out at him. Ordinary. Neither tall nor short, light brown hair, pale skin and eyes that were just a touch too close together.

"Evander Carrow. Alecto Carrow's son."

"I didn't know she had a kid."

"I don't think many people did. I've got the team gathering intelligence on him now."

It was funny; both Aurors had been desperate to go home, go to sleep, but now they had a little hope that there could be some progress on the case it was like they'd been renewed.

—

"Good morning."

Draco had been beginning to think that Ginny had Apparated away in the early hours but as he'd passed the bedroom he'd heard the shower running and the faint sound of someone singing.

She had emerged not too much time later, in the kitchen doorway, looking fresh and lovely. Her face was healing nicely and the colour was coming back to her complexion.

"Morning."

She seemed a little hesitant, a little embarrassed.

"Would you like some coffee?"

"Yes, please."

He poured a huge mug of coffee and placed it on the table in front of her.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Like the dead. Thank you for letting me stay and…" _come on now Ginny _"…and I'm sorry if I behaved inappropriately. My head is all over the place with the attack and the case and I'm sure you were just trying to be kind and…"

He looked at her frostily, "if you regret staying here you only have to say so but please don't make up excuses."

" What — no, I, I was worried you…I was worried I had overstepped a mark last night. That's all. I liked being here. I like spending time with you, Draco. I wanted to be here. I just didn't want to misread the signs." She felt tears prickle in her eyes, she always got it wrong.

A moment or two of silence hung in the air.

"I liked having you here too. I like having you…everywhere I go actually. And I never expected to say that about a Weasley."

He reached out and squeezed her hand, his ice thawed and her fear quashed.

"Shall we go to the village for breakfast?"

—

_Evan,_

_We've had a last minute request (what's new?) to photograph a big party tonight. Are you around? Double time pay, of course, for Halloween. It's a costume party so they've asked you to be in costume. We can send over one of the creepy clown masks from last year's spooky photoshoot._

_Let me know ASAP._

_Cheers,_

_Dave._

He hadn't been planning on working for a while. He knew it was smart to keep a low profile but this seemed perfect; double pay to keep the landlord off his back for a couple of weeks and in costume. No one would even see his face.

Just when his faith had been wavering in his cause the universe found another way to keep him strong.

_Yep, I'll be there. Send me the address and the brief and the mask._

_Evander. _

—

"Yes, Hermione, for the eighteenth time, I did book a photographer weeks ago when you asked. And, yes, he is coming in costume and he has the brief you wrote out for me."

Ron crumpled the bit of paper he had in his hand and stuffed it in his pocket. Thank Merlin for being mates with a guy, who knew a photographer, who knew another guy, who was also a photographer, that could come a photograph your party _that _night. Particularly when you had a girlfriend who had assumed you'd booked the photographer weeks prior.

"Okay, okay. I was just checking. I know you've had a lot on."

She kissed him on the cheek and he felt a little guilt at his lie but…it was sorted now. She'd never need to know.

"Come on, let's get to the shops — I may even treat you to breakfast."

"You do know how to spoil a girl, Ronald Weasley."

She pulled on her woolly hat and coat and the two left their little house to walk down into the village. Both happy and excited to be welcoming family and friends into their home that evening.

—

Draco and Ginny had walked from the Manor, chatting about the case as they went, into the little hub of shops and cafes in no time. It was the kind of beautiful, crisp weather that turned ears and noses a pretty shade of pink. Once in the village Draco navigated her down a few winding little streets and stopped outside a crooked old building which seemed to house both a book shop and small cafe. The minute Ginny entered and the warmth and smell of fresh baking hit her she knew exactly why Leaf was a favourite place for Draco to visit.

She'd been past it a couple of times with Ron and Hermione but hadn't ever been in.

"This place is fantastic, Draco."

He thought she looked wonderful, beaming up at him, her eyes wide and — for once — the weight of her workload not on her shoulders.

"I thought you might like it."

She could kiss him right now, she thought. She felt giddy, light. She knew she should be fretting about work, trying to help the case but…Ginny Weasley was actually enjoying her enforced time away from the Department for once.

_Ahem._

Someone cleared their throat behind them and they sprang apart as though burned.

"Ron! Hermione!"

At that moment the waiter arrived.

"Table for four? This way."

Before they'd had a moment to answer he was leading them through the nest of wooden tables and chairs, seating them together in a cosy table by the window.

"Look, we can go sit somewhere else, if you" Hermione began but Ron cut her off.

"No, no, it's good for us to be together. Keep an eye on Ginny. Make sure she's feeling okay."

Ginny rolled her eyes.

"_I__'__m fine, Ron.__"_

"Really? Because I'd be sincerely concerned about long lasting spell damage impairing your decisions."

"That's an awful lot of big words there, Weasley." Malfoy drawled, with no malice in his tone only teasing.

Hermione kicked Ron beneath the table. A not so subtle reminder that they were adults, that Ginny was an adult, that Draco wasn't an enemy and that they were going to be happy for Ginny if she found someone she liked. Even if it was Malfoy who wouldn't have been anyone's first choice.

Draco wanted to laugh at the brilliant shade of puce Ron had turned but he picked up the menu instead — despite already knowing what he'd have — and hid his smirk.

"So, are you ready for tonight?"

In truth Ginny had forgotten about the party until that very morning when she'd realised it was Halloween. She didn't feel much like being around lots of people but she thought they'd understand if she only popped in for a little bit and then went back home. Or the Manor, perhaps, depending on what Draco's plans were. She hadn't asked, she hadn't wanted to think about anything beyond the morning they were currently living in where she felt buoyant for the first time in a long time. It had taken for her to be attacked and injured and reminded of her past to really make her sit back and realise just how important it was to take care of herself.

"Yes, I think so. We just need to dec the house out a bit — pumpkins, candles, you know — and we'll be ready."

"Mum's making food. You're still coming, right, Gin?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course. I might not be able to stay too late, depends how I feel."

"I thought you were fine?"

She rolled her eyes, "I am. But my body is still healing. It took a lot to fight off that possession spell."

Ron stared at her for a moment but decided it wasn't the time to push the issue.

"Shame you couldn't make it, Malfoy."

Draco had sent a negative RSVP to them both a few days previously.

"Actually. Things have altered somewhat in my schedule so I'll be there. Definitely."

Hermione jumped in before Ron could reply, "that's just great — look forward to seeing you there. Now, I've never had the pancakes here, are they good?"

In the end it hadn't been such a bad breakfast. It wasn't quite the nervous, flirty, I don't quite know what's happening but I like it atmosphere that both Ginny and Draco had secretly hoped for but it wasn't unpleasant either. Ron seemed to warm up as the meal went on, enjoying seeing his sister looking more relaxed than he had in a long time. The foursome had gone their separate ways afterwards, knowing it wouldn't be long before they were in each other's company again later that day.

—

"We checked at the address we have for Carrow but no one was in. Didn't look like anyone had been around for a couple of days but I've just spoken to a man called David Montague. He owns a photography company and he has commissioned him to work a party tonight, said he got a response from Carrow this morning so he'll definitely be there."

"That's great work — thanks, Darcey."

"Did you get an address for the party?" Tom asked.

"Yeah, that's the other thing, it's Ginny's brother's party."

"We need to tell her."

"She's supposed to be resting, recuperating."

"Oh, come on, you know she'll already be there. Or, if she's not, do you think she'll forgive us for not letting her know that a potentially very dangerous man is going to be at her brothers house and around all her family and friends?"

Angela conceded. She knew Ginny would want to hear about this from her and Tom first.

—

Ginny looked at her reflection in a shop window.

"Not entirely certain I'll need a costume for this evening. I'm already looking a little zombie-like."

She turned her face so she could see the pink, puckered skin a little clearer.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"It's true — I'll have Victoire and Teddy running for the hills."

Draco stopped and turned her to face him. His hands slid from her upper arms to the sides of her face, cupping her jawline gently. She felt goosebumps erupt up all over her body, her stomach turning to liquid.

"You have those injuries because you were doing your job and because a fucking psychopath decided to try and harm you. You are bloody gorgeous, Ginny Weasley."

And with that he swooped down, his lips finding hers, his hands tangling in her red hair. It was electrifying. Her arms clamped around his neck and she felt his body push against hers. He trailed the kisses down her chin, along her jaw and down onto her neck. He didn't care they were stood in the middle of busy high street, all he cared about was her body responding to his. Her little gasps. Her soft skin, the scent of peaches and violets engulfing him. Ginny's hands found themselves his hair, her finger nails lightly scratching along his scalp. Anymore and he'd have to Apparate her away to the Manor immediately so he pulled away slightly, trailing his hands down to rest on her hips. Breathing heavily.

"So…you think I'm gorgeous, do you?"

She was teasing him but he didn't care. He'd finally made the move he'd been wanting since she'd walked through the front door the previous evening.

He was about to kiss her once more, to make his opinion on her looks well and truly clear when a voice interrupted them.

_What, in the name of Circe, is wrong with everyone today!?_

"Sorry. Malfoy. Ginny…we think we found him."

Whether Tom Blackford had found the sight of his boss snogging the life out of Draco Malfoy, in the middle of a street in a small village, shocking or not they'd never know. His tone was serious and direct and, to Ginny and Draco, felt like a sucker punch which sent them spiralling back into the disturbing and frustrating case.

—

"Do you think we should let your brother know, Ginny?"

Ginny pondered for a moment as she paced up and down Draco's office — Tom, Draco and herself had been joined by Mathilde, Angela and Harry Potter and Draco had offered the Manor as a base — her natural instinct was to warn Ron and Hermione, tell them to cancel the party and lock the house up tight but that would be civilian Ginny. Professional, savvy, shrewd Auror Ginny, however, knew this was an excellent opportunity to follow up on one of the only solid leads this case had thrown up. And something in her — the more she'd learnt about Carrow and the more she'd thought of his sadistic bitch of a mother and cruel monster of an uncle — was utterly convinced that this was their man.

"No — we can't. We'll set up parameters around the party, have security on standby, but we can't risk cancelling and losing him."

"You don't know we'll lose him," remarked Harry, "he hasn't seemed spooked so far has he? Hasn't given us cause to believe he's a loose cannon?"

"Well, no."

"So why are we putting civilisations in the firing line?" Realisation dawned on Harry. "You want to catch him in the act. You're going to bait him."

The room went very silent, every eye on Ginny.

"Is this true, Ginny?"

Mathilde looked at her Head of MIU very seriously.

"He can't possess me and he tried and failed before. If I was there, having fun, at a party it would goad him into action again I'm sure of it. He wouldn't be able to stand it."

"It damn nearly killed you last time protection runes or not. This is reckless." Harry's temper was beginning to flare. Ginny wished they hadn't pulled him in on the case but he was one of the best when it came to surveillance, and sting, operations.

Draco had bristled at the protective tone in Harry's voice.

"Mathilde, Tom — you know it makes sense, right?"

Tom looked a little uneasy — it _did _sound reckless, however, Ginny's gambles often paid off —but Mathilde seemed to agree with Ginny.

"Whilst I don't like the idea of you being in the firing line, Ginny, I think you're right. It would be so hard to prove this kind of perpetrator's guilt but if we could catch him in the act…."

Ginny knew with Mathilde on her side there was very little the rest of the Aurors could say against the plan.

"And I'll be with you the whole time," said Draco, "I can help if he tries to attack you."

Harry looked nonplussed. He knew they'd been working together but this was an entirely new dynamic. Watching the two of them he saw now how intently Malfoy watched her.

"And we will have several Aurors in and around the party; they'll be in costume so no one will ever know they aren't supposed be there." Angela didn't like the idea of her boss being in the firing line again, it had been strange working without her for just a couple of days, but if this was going to be the plan she'd make sure it all ran as smoothly as possible.

"Then it's agreed. The party starts at eight. If it's okay with Draco let's reconvene here an hour before hand for a briefing."

They all looked grim faced but agreed. She would take no unnecessary risk to hers, or anyone else's, life but she wanted to catch the bastard and if she had to throw herself in the way of danger to do so, she would.


	9. Nine

**Nine**

"Are you nervous?"

Draco watched as Ginny applied make-up; dark eyeshadow, pale white face powder and deep red lips. She was wearing a tight black velvet dress and her hair fell in messy ringlets around her shoulders. She'd charmed her canine teeth to look like vampire fangs. He'd never seen her looking so made-up.

"No, not really, not for me. I get nervous thinking that I'm going to make the wrong decision sometimes, that I may cost an innocent their life but…I just know this is the best way to do it."

"How can you be so sure it's him?"

She stopped applying her lipstick and looked up into the mirror where she could see him stretched out on his bed. It had felt so oddly intimate, applying her make-up and styling her hair at his dressing table. Other than the kiss earlier and slight, subtle touches they had barely had any time to explore their attraction and the lust was reaching a kind of fever pitch despite the impending operation that evening.

"I can't explain it. I just get feelings, instincts I suppose, about these things. He seems to fit. His mother was bloody awful, his uncle too, when they were at Hogwarts. Stands to reason his dad probably wasn't a good guy either. If they inflicted cruelty on him, or forced him to be cruel to others, then what he's doing — the power he's asserting over his victims — makes perfect sense."

He nodded, understanding. So much of Legilimency and Obliviation relied on trusting your gut, feeling your way around situations.

"Sorry everything got hijacked by work. But, if I'm honest, a lot of things in my life get hijacked by work."

He shrugged. So, this wasn't quite how he had imagined the evening unfolding but he was realising one of the things he liked most about Ginny was how ambitious and focused in her career she was. It was impressive and alluring to see how brightly she burned when on a mission, when looking for a solution and leading a team.

She stood and secured her wand to a garter on her thigh (the slit in her dress allowing for easy access). Draco got up to stand beside her and they both peered into the mirror, admiring the image they created together. He was dressed as Dracula with a high, starched white collar, long black cape and two lines of dragon's blood trickling from the corners of his mouth. He looked glacial and handsome. She felt Draco running his fingers up and down her spine, her body instantly reacting to him and, just for a moment, allowed herself to forget about the danger they could be facing in the next few hours.

—

Evander Carrow believed in listening to, and obeying, the signs he was given in this world. He'd taken the job tonight to help pay rent and stop himself looking suspicious by being too silent but then he'd received the address and names of his clients and he knew the reason he'd been offered this job was to finish what he had begun the other night with Ginny Weasley.

Her brother was throwing a party and he was going to be there. This was it. This was the grand show of his power: He wasn't useless, he wasn't a failure. He was worth listening to, worth paying attention to.

Picking up his camera and lenses, Evander admired his killer clown costume one last time in the mirror, and Apparated to the home of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.

—

"Ginny!"

Ron was already three drinks in and she could see by his ruddy cheeks that he was well on his way to drunk. He seemed relaxed, even in the face of her turning up alongside Draco Malfoy in somewhat matching Halloween costumes, and Ginny knew she'd made the right decision in keeping him in the dark.

He hugged Ginny and reluctantly shook Draco's hand before insisting they get themselves in the kitchen to try the punch.

After Ron had walked away, Angela joined them.

"Boss, Malfoy. He's here, he's outside."

"We need to get him inside the house; there are anti-Apparation wards here." Ginny reiterated what had been said countless times in the briefing before the party.

"He'll come in. He'll want to see everything, and everyone, if he's going to make any kind of move tonight he'll make sure he's scoped out everything."

Ginny nodded, agreeing with Draco's words. Angela squeezed Ginny's hand in an uncharacteristically tender way and moved into the main throng of the party.

The music was loud and pulsating and they had strung thick ropes of fairy lights across the ceiling. Pumpkins sat on every available surface and Ginny could see everyone slowly becoming more and more intoxicated on both the potent punch George had whipped up and atmosphere around them. But Ginny couldn't relax, she couldn't even enjoy the proximity of Draco beside her. She could feel the tension in her body rising, she was on high alert and ready to spring when necessary.

—

_Snap, snap, snap._

Silly poses, sexy poses, family photos, drunken pals messing about.

It was always the same, everyone was _always_ the same. He hated them, resented them their happiness, their laughter. They had no idea how cruel the world could be, how it felt to have those who were supposed to love you the most be so cold and inflict such pain.

He moved around the garden and began to head towards the house when he caught sight of her through the kitchen window. She was stood by a tall, blond man who looked vaguely familiar. They were talking intimately, the man reaching up to adjust her hair. Tender, sweet.

As he came closer he realised the man was Draco Malfoy.

_How could Draco Malfoy find happiness? How was it he had found redemption?_

—

Tom watched as Carrow spotted Ginny and Draco in the house and began to, subtly, follow in his wake. He wasn't going to let anything happen to Ginny again; she was one of his best friends, and closest colleagues, and he liked seeing her find some sort of happiness with Draco. He wanted to see her to continue to be happy. He was determined to protect her this time.

—

Ginny was taking a sip of her drink when she spotted him out the corner of her eye. He looked grotesque as a clown with dark eyes and a mouth that looked as though it had been carved into his cheeks. He moved deliberately through the crowd being careful not to bump into anyone; he was perfect as a photographer. Even as a horrific parody of a clown he wasn't really noticed by the other partygoers. He blended in, took candid photos, and melted away again.

"He's here. Behind you. Don't look, he's not close yet."

Draco slowly adjusted his position so he could scan the room and make sure he had Carrow in his sights.

Ginny saw Tom entering the room and felt better knowing she really did have back-up this time. Tom, Draco, Angela, Harry and whole squad of Aurors alongside powerful wards which ran along the boundaries of Ron and Hermione's property.

She reached down and found Draco's hand, she squeezed it once and let go. Before she knew it Carrow was in front of her and she just knew this was their man. It was in his eyes, his stance, his aura. This man was extraordinarily damaged and dangerous.

He bought up his camera and began clicking, capturing images of Ginny and Draco and then —

_Darkness._

Evander Carrow had dropped a bag of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. The guests all screamed, some giddy with excitement and others with fear, not knowing whether it was a party trick or not. However, the blackness didn't last for long. Carrow hadn't anticipated George Weasley — who, along with his late twin, Fred, had imported and helped develop the powder — who uttered the incantation which could breakdown the darkness almost immediately.

As the cloud cleared Ginny saw him right in front of her brandishing his wand not directly at her but at Draco. She too had pulled her wand out, as had many other of the guests and undercover Aurors in the room.

"_Draco Malfoy__" _spat Evander. "Have you found a conscience these days? Got yourself a nice life, a happy life? Your parents were Death Eaters, why aren't you as _fucked _as me."

He sounded manic, on the edge.

"Would it just break your heart to kill your precious Ginny Weasley? Would you know what pain felt like then?"

This had thrown Ginny, and the rest of the Aurors, who hadn't anticipated Draco to be a target. But it made some sort of sense; Draco could have so easily been Evander. If his parents had been cruel and abusive, if he hadn't had supportive friends and a way out, he too could have been ravaged by resentment and poor mental health. Carrow was clearly on the edge — altering targets at the last minute and allowing his temper to break through were signs that this man was unravelling.

Draco was staring the man down silently. In truth what could he say? There would be no reasoning with this man but he'd not allow himself to be possessed. He'd not be used again, as a puppet, to do damage to anyone — especially not Ginny. It hadn't been possession but Voldemort had blackmailed Draco to murder and cause pain all the while holding Narcissa's life over him.

He looked over to Tom and hoped he was portraying everything he wanted to say; if it happens, kill me. Take me. Don't let me do it. Don't let me become everything everyone expected from me.

"_MANCIPIUM —"_

Evander brought his wand down and a flash of electric blue light emitted from his wand. Draco thought he was quick but Ginny was far quicker and threw herself in the line of fire. She felt the spell hit her, like a troll's club, and she went flying backwards into Draco and almost through the kitchen window. She felt the spell bounce around her body, her runes fighting hard against it, rejecting it, before the world went black.

—

It took three days before they allowed Ginny to be woken up from her magically induced coma. It had almost killed her; Carrow's spell had been so ferocious, his magic so out of control, that her body had, had to fight so extraordinarily hard to reject it. The Healers had insisted on minimal visiting hours and a strict family only policy which had meant that Draco, Tom and Angela had been left to wonder what was going on.

When Ginny had woken, however, she had wanted to know what had happened and she'd wanted her colleagues to tell her.

Molly had been against it but Arthur — in a rare show of insistence in the face of his wife's wrath — had allowed them to come talk to Ginny, knowing his daughter wouldn't rest until she saw them.

Tom's eyes had welled up when he saw her, Angela and rushed and taken the seat by her side beaming from ear to ear to see her boss propped up on a mountain of pillows looking pale but like herself. Draco was silent, sitting at the end of the bed.

"Merlin, Ginny. We thought we'd lost you there." Tom choked out.

"Me too, Tom, me too. But, I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. So, tell me what happened."

"After the cloud cleared we saw how close Carrow was to you. We heard him shouting but realised it wasn't at you, it was at Draco. I think it took a moment for everyone to register the shift in focus but by the time that had happened you'd already jumped in the way of the curse. You were almost suspended for a moment and then went flying backwards into Draco."

Angela picked up the story, "after that it was fairly usual. Harry disarmed him, he tried to Apparate but couldn't because of the wards already in place. Tom and I closed in and arrested him. Draco examined his memories and found his recollections from Laura, Edward and Rosie. He'd saved them in his flat too so he could revisit the moments in his Pensieve. They were awful memories, it was like he was there committing all of them but also getting off on the fact it had been someone they loved making them do those horrid things." She looked like she was going to be sick at the thought of anyone wanting to watch brutal murders on repeat.

"Not that, that mattered really — no offence, Draco — because he sung like a bloody canary after we had him. It sounds like he had it rough but…lots of us didn't have easy childhoods and we didn't end up like him."

Ginny nodded. After catching-up on the clean-up and media storm after the arrest Tom and Angela made the excuses and left to return to work and update Mathilde on Ginny's progress.

Silence fell in the ward.

"You're very quiet."

Draco moved into Angela's vacated seat, right by Ginny's side. He took her hand tightly in his.

"I thought you were gone. I thought you'd been a bloody rash idiot and got yourself killed for me. I'm not worth that, Ginny. You're ten, twenty, thirty of me. The world would be a far poorer place without you in it."

She didn't know what to say. It would seem lame, and untruthful, to say it was her job. It _was _her job to protect but…she'd have never let him possess another person and especially not Draco.

Ginny brought his hand up to her lips and sweetly kissed his knuckles. He looked so earnest, so lost, as he stared at her.

"I think maybe I would like to always jump in the way of hexes and curses for you, Draco. If you'll promise to help me heal, cook me dinners, make me watch films I can sleep through and sometimes fight alongside me too."

He thought maybe that was a promise he could keep.


End file.
